Uneasy Coexistence
by Decembers-Coldest-Rain
Summary: AU; In which the sexually repressed gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college. Hikaru/Akira
1. Toy Lightsabers are Effective in Battle

**Title: **Uneasy Coexistence

**Description: **In which the sexually repressed gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college.

**Pairing(s):** main: Touya Akira / Shindou Hikaru;

**AU: **Alternate Universe in which Touya Akira never became a professional Go player, and instead is in pursuit of his MD; at 19 years old he is freshman in college at Tokyo University, is profoundly antisocial, and is an inactive homosexual. Where Shindou Hikaru was born in the Kyoto Prefecture and has come to Tokyo University several weeks after summer semester began for undisclosed reasons; at 19 he is Touya's opposite: social, friendly, and getting straighter every day. He has some hoodlum tendencies.

**Author's Notes: **I'm following the manga. In the colored pages of the manga Akira has blue-black hair.. so don't bother me about it being green in the anime. Anyways - I enjoy happy endings; I don't always write them. Angst is good. Sex is better. This story is starting out on T, but will upgrade to M if I feel like being a dirty little girl; which I inevitably will. If you read this you're going to witness Hikaru hook up with several women. He's straight, that happens. Akira gets his own action too. Oh, at some point they're going to have really dirty sex on a goban. Seriously, why is there not more fanfiction where that happens? Shit's awesome.

Also, at this moment I'm watching Wet being played by my best friend and partner in crime; what the fuck? She's stabbed 20 guys in the genital region so far. Feminist?

* * *

_Prelude:_

_one year ago_

* * *

Shindou Hikaru was not a novice to drinking. Some would even say he was impressive at it, and for one who was impressive at few publically acceptable things, this was quite an accomplishment. Not that drinking was acceptable in public, per say; it was just better than picking locks or pockets. Which was why, on one warm evening in Downtown Kyoto, Shindou Hikaru was nursing an American beer he couldn't pronounce, and spraying his name onto an alley wall behind a local convenience store.

"That was a pretty lame party," a feminine voice mused behind the male; Fujisaki Akari, longtime friend and possibly the only female in the world Hikaru had no interest in. She was a typical Japanese girl; long, silky dark hair ran down her should, and that evening she wore her school uniform. Sipping from a glass bottle, she winced, handing the drink over to a boy with wild hair who leaned against the wall next to her. "I didn't like anyone there,"

Hikaru ignored the girl, instead letting himself be mesmerized by the _whisk_ of the spray-can as he shaped the letters of his name onto public property. Next to him, the wild haired boy, known as Tetsuo Kaga, tipped the bottle back and downed the entire thing, before throwing it down onto and concrete and smirking when it broke.

"Ka_ga_," Akari whined, never one to facilitate trouble. "Someone could hurt themselves; and littering is bad."

Kaga slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it, taking a long drag before exhaling into the girl's face. "You're right; if you go get me another one I'll be sure to discard of it properly." The older teen winked smoothly, before dipping down and pulling a spray-can from the black backpack resting against the alley wall at his feet. He uncapped it, and began spraying different curse words in kanji across his side of the wall. They dripped down onto the pavement, staining the ground red and white.

"Do you want anything Hikaru?"

The teen looked up from his masterpiece, regarding Akari with interest. She was short, and with her hair like that she didn't look eighteen. "Should I come with you?" he asked on impulse; Hikaru was a sucker for helpless women.

Akari blinked. "Oh, no, I have my I.D. with me today. Un..unless you want to," she smiled hopefully, but Hikaru had already lost interest. He turned toward his wall and admired his handiwork.

"Get me another one of these things," he said, waving the American beer in his friend's direction. The boy completely missed the dejection on Akari's face as she stepped out of the alley and turned the corner, heading into the convenience store to further stem the alcohol-driven delinquency taking place outside.

Kaga pulled a cigarette from his leather jacket's pocket and offered it to Hikaru, who took it complacently and jabbed it between his lips. He produced a butane lighter from his pocket and flicked it, momentarily brightening the entire alleyway before leaving only the glowing embers of the cigarette to lighten his features. Sometimes he could be a really bad kid. "She's got it bad for you, you know," Kaga mused, exhaling smoke into the night air.

"Akari?" Hikaru asked, as if there was some other girl his friend would be referencing.

Kaga laughed. "Yeah, her. Who else?"

"I don't know. I just wouldn't think it'd be Akari. We've been friends way too long." Hikaru added emphasis to _way_, sounding a bit uncomfortable.

The older teen wet his lips, dropping the butt of his cigarette to the ground roughly and sending up a hail of sparks. "And she's liked you the whole time.. ah, man, I don't want to talk about this but she's been bugging be for a while now."

Hikaru breathed out. "Shit," he murmured, running his fingers absently through his blond bangs. "She's like, my friend. I'm not really into that.."

"Hey, back off!"

Hikaru and Kaga looked up at the same time, recognizing Akari's voice from around the corner.

"Hey!"

Both males, who had previously been leaning against the wall talking, lurched forward to see what was going on. They erupted from the opening to the alleyway, quickly catching sight of their small friend, who was backed against the wall with a large man in front of her. Hikaru noticed a rough hand on Akari's hip, and that was enough to send him storming up to the man. "Get the fuck off my friend..!" He screamed, ripping the man back by the shoulder and sending him stumbling across the sidewalk. A streetlamp flickered overhead; he looked like a common thug, black hoodie, beanie, and all.

"You're friend shouldn't look like such a _tease_," the man slurred, obviously sloshed.

Hikaru sneered, standing with his shoulders squared across from the stranger. Kaga had already attended to Akari, sliding protectively in front of her and looking lethal. This wouldn't be the first time they'd had to defend her against a scumbag. "Why don't you just get out of here?" the younger male called, glaring.

"Whatever," the man growled, throwing back a swig from the bottle he'd been clutching under his coat and turning to walk away. Hikaru shook his head and turned to Kaga and Akari, the latter of which was sniffling quietly.

He had just begun patting the girl's back comfortingly when suddenly there was a wet _thump_ and Kaga sunk to his knees. Hikaru heard a glass bottle clatter to the ground, and whipped around just in time to find the drunken man rushing at him, fists cocked. "Fuck you, kid!" He yelled, fueled by poisonous rage. Akari screamed, watching as the man connected with Hikaru and smashed him in the stomach, making the boy double over and wheeze. The man didn't stop, smashing balled fists into the younger male's back furiously. Akari ran up and tried to grip the man's arm, only succeeding in stopping him for a moment before he shrugged her off and threw her to the ground.

"Hikaru!" the girl yelled, tears streaming down her face as her leg scrapped against broken glass. The teen in question had managed to stand up, and was ready when his wasted assailant returned his attention to him.

Hikaru cocked his fist back and slammed it straight into the psycho's face, feeling the skin split under his knuckles. He collided his knee with the drunk's stomach, before pulling him up straight and punching him square on. Underneath his fist the teen felt the man's nose collapse, and that was enough to make him back off. Hikaru stayed ready, watching his attacker cradle his face as blood spilled to the ground. "What the.. fuh.." words sounding wet from the blood streaming over his mouth, the thug began spewing random curse words and stumbling away.

A clerk from the convenience store rounded the corner, looking annoyed in his white apron and nametag. This was nothing new, really. "The cops will be here in a minute; I won't have this violence outside my store." Catching sight of the graffiti in the alleyway, the clerk sighed loudly. "Fucking kids," he murmured, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows.

As if on cue Hikaru could hear sirens in the distance, quickly approaching. He moved to Akari and helped her up, grimacing at the bloody scrapes on her thigh. "I'm sorry," he said, looking down helplessly.

"For what? You saved me," the girl replied, grasping her friend's arm for a moment before turning to where Kaga was and moving unsteadily towards him. "Is Kaga alright?"

Hikaru felt butterflies in his stomach as he listened to the police sirens getting closer and closer. He had a bad feeling, but pushed it to the back of his mind and instead knelt down to his older friend's side, giving his a small nudge. "I think he's out cold…"

The teen heard giggling, and turned in anger towards the smashed man who had done all this. "What's so funny?" he asked in anger, biting his lip to keep from spouting curse words.

"This couldn't have worked out better for me," the drunk slurred. "My dad's a cop."

xxx

_Ring.._

_Ring..._

_Ring... _

"_Hello?"_

"_Mom – it's me, Hikaru." _

"_Baby? It's four in the morning. Where are you?"_

"_The police station… Mom, I'm in trouble."_

"_What happened?"_

"_I got in a fight – self defense. But, they want to press aggravated assault charges against me. Mom… I think I need a lawyer… they want to put me in jail…"_

_

* * *

_

Chapter One

_Toy Lightsabers are Effective in Battle_

_

* * *

_

Touya Akira stood face-to-face with the oddest looking boy he had ever seen. Shaggy dark brown hair hung at the base of his neck, dyed blond bangs framing large amber eyes and making him look coordinated against his will. The boy was tall, his arms and legs lanky, but chest and shoulders broad. When Akira had been told a week prior his room was to house this young man, he'd expected someone a little more.. normal. The effect wasn't bad really, but it was somewhat surprising. Akira examined the teen closer, wondering what kind of roommate he would be.

"You have green eyes," the boy pointed out, looking like he'd been trying to come up with something to say for a few minutes and had only managed to single out a somewhat rare trait for Japanese males.

Akira blinked, surprised at hearing such a blatant thing. "Yes, and you are male."

His new roommate self-consciously brought his hand to the back of his head, scratching his scalp and grinning, "Yeah, I guess that was obvious. I'm Shindou Hikaru, nineteen years old; I like girls and Go, so don't touch my girls and don't touch my goban." He was trying to be funny; break the ice..

_Obnoxious_, Akira thought, reaching out to shake Hikaru's hand on polite impulse. The other boy reacted quickly, grabbing his hand enthusiastically. "I am Touya Akira, same age. I'm gay, and I have my own goban, so I don't think we'll have a problem." Hikaru's smile slid off like pudding, and Akira was pleased with his ability to make relaxed situations awkward as hell with just a few words. Realizing his hand was still being shaken, the boy delicately removed it and stepped away from his new roommate. "So, why did you suddenly transfer mid-semester? This is supposed to be a single room, but they ran out of doubles…"

Wow, he had no idea what to talk about in this situation.

"N..No real reason. Stuff at home; wanted to get away." Hikaru was still gaping, and Akira found that incredibly annoying. Had he never met a gay boy before? Or was there something on his face? The teen fingered his cheek unconsciously, before sliding his hand back over his head and smoothing his chin length blue-black locks. "Umm.." Akira was starting to think this kid was more awkward than he was. "What are you interested in? Besides, you know, guys and Go?"

"Annoying," Akira muttered, wandering away across the dorm's small living room. There was no time for small talk. He planted himself on the couch, ignoring the tall boy he was now being forced to room with. Hikaru simply stood there a moment, feeling out of place in the college setting. The dark haired boy began rifling through his backpack, pulling out a textbook and pretending to study until he felt a comfortable silence fall across the room.

_Screeeeeeeeeech _

Akira turned around, eye twitching, in time to see Hikaru dragging _his_ kaya goban out from the corner across the linoleum floor. "Wow! Yours is so much better than mine!"

"What are you doing!" The smaller boy was off the couch and across the room in a second, batting Hikaru's fingers away from his goban fretfully. "Didn't we _just_ agree this stuff wasn't to be touched?"

Amber orbs stared up are Akira gleefully, and the teen swallowed. "Well, technically you didn't say I couldn't touch yours. Want to play a game?"

"Not with you," Akira growled, pulling his goban back to the corner lightly. "Anyways, don't you need to go move your stuff up?" he paused, adding a resentful, "I suppose I can help.."

Hikaru waved his hands in front of his chest. "Oh, I have everything already." He motioned to a small pile of boxes by the door, "I just need to unpack."

_Not much stuff…_ Akira thought, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and ignoring the awkward way Hikaru shuffled his feet. _Is he poor? Poor people don't get into Toyo.._ At some point during his inner musings Akira recognized a hand waving in front of his face; he looked up blankly. "You daydreaming?" the larger boy shoved his hands into his pocket, "I wanted to know where I should put my stuff."

Akira replied after a thoughtful moment, "I have an extra drawer in my dresser if you want to use it. I also don't mind helping you move the couch and tv out of the corner if you want to put your bed there…" The smaller teen rubbed his nose, looking over his shoulder to the door on the left side of the room that led to their bathroom; "I share a bathroom with the guys next door. If you have any toiletries you have to keep them in a basket by the door."

"Akira?" Hikaru was looking at the side of the room where Akira's bed was; underneath the window next to his desk and dresser. "I didn't bring a bed."

Akira stared at his roommate for a moment. "But I only have mine,"

And this is how Akira and Hikaru first met.

* * *

Akira had never understood what it meant to have someone that 'got under your skin'. He'd heard the saying, and he logically could interpret it, but his whole life he'd been so level-headed that he had never truly experienced it. For him it was just an idea; that is, until Tokyo University had decided to move Shindou Hikaru into his room. Only a week had passed since that time, but in that week Akira had quickly learned what the old saying meant. Everything about Shindou Hikaru 'got under his skin'.

First, Hikaru was loud. He was always yelling, and going on about pointless things that grated on Akira's nerves. And it didn't stop at that, either. He was loud all day and night. He was loud when he studied, when he watched television, and worst of all, when he had company ("Don't hit on any of my friends, Akira!" – "As if I would!"). Hikaru always had someone over; and more often than not it was a group of shameless frat-boys who would stay until late at night and keep Akira up with reckless drinking games and sex-talk. If it didn't piss him off endlessly, he probably would have been impressed with his roommate's social prowess.

But as it was, it fucking pissed him off. _When does he ever sleep?_

Second, Hikaru was a guy; and not in the 'he-has-a-penis' way, but in the 'cliché' way. Everything he touched got dirty. Everywhere he went a trail of dirty socks and underwear followed. On more than one occasion Akira found stale food under the mini-fridge, and he was scared to enter the bathroom less than ten minutes after Hikaru had been in. There was always a mess of blankets on the couch (where Hikaru had grudgingly consented to sleep), and sometimes Akira found used condoms in the cushions. He didn't even want to know how those got there.

He was living in hell. Stinky, loud hell.

The worst part was Akira could not totally hate Hikaru. The larger boy, while being a pest, had on many occasions tried to engage Akira and befriend him. In this area, Akira was the one resistant. He refused to speak more than required of him, except on the occasions Hikaru pushed him too far; both boys could yell back and forth for hours when they were really worked up. Akira tried to avoid these situations, because he always seemed to pay for any witty verbose.

It was like walking on glass.

Akira sighed, placing a delicate stone on the goban in front of him and looking up at his playmate, Tsutsui Kimihiro. "Why so glum, Touya-kun?" Tsutsui asked, placing his own stone down inexpertly on the board. The older boy, with his sort dark hair and shining glasses, was inferior to Akira in Go, but they often played.

"My roommate kept me up late last night," Akira said, glancing quickly over the board before setting down another stone. The moment his fingers left it a fan tapped him on the head; he looked up in surprise at his flamboyant sensei. "Fujiwara-sensei?" he asked, blinking as the long-haired man hovering over him.

"It's Sai! Sai!" His sensei insisted, waving his hands for a moment before leaning over and indicating an unoccupied spot on the goban with his fan. "This would have been a better move, Touya-san. Tsutsui-kun would have had no move against it."

Akira's lip ticked. _I was going easy on him_, he wanted to say, but remained quiet. "I see, thank you, sensei." The teen didn't really like his Go class; most of the students were below his level, and his teacher was so ridiculously strong playing him was simply a beating. He'd only taken it for a Humanities credit… well, there were worse ways to spend his time. Sai moved away from the two players, crossing the room and hovering over other games.

"I know you were just going easy on me," Tsutsui said, scratching the back of his head and looking similar to Akira's retard-roommate for a moment. As if reading his mind, Tsutsui continued, "So what about your roommate?"

"What _about_ him?" Akira asked pointedly, rolling his eyes. "He had a bunch of guys over last night, and they stayed up yelling at the tv for hours. Then they all left, and he came back drunk and tried to crawl into my bed with me."

Tsutsui placed another stone, and the _pa-chi_ rang in Akira's ears. "Were any of his friends cute?" That surprised the younger male; he knew his Go friend was gay, but they didn't exactly talk about that kind of stuff.

Akira automatically set another stone. "No, I couldn't think anyone that associated with Shindou Hikaru was attractive, anyways."

"So much dislike for him," Tsutsui mused, "Are you sure you aren't secretly in love with him? He does apparently try to crawl into bed with you."

_Pa-chi_

Blushing at such teasing, Akira shook his head. "Never," he replied, slamming down his stone. He did not hold back, sliding it into a spot on the board he'd been saving. One that he knew would end the game instantly. Tsutsui bit his lip for a moment, then hung his head.

"I have nothing."

_Damn straight you don't_, Akira thought, mentally smirking. He liked Tsutsui, but during the course of their many games, the older boy had grown somewhat forward.

"Class?" Everyone's attention was immediately brought to the front of the room, where Fuijiwara-sensei, _Sai_, was waving his fan around. "We have a student who recently transferred to the school, and he's joining our class." Sai grinned, tilting his head. "I've had the pleasure of playing him in a game, and he's very strong. Shindou-kun? You can come in now."

Heart sputtering, Akira turned wide eyes to the door at the left of the classroom. _Shindou?_ He thought, alarm spiking in his stomach, _surely there is some other Shindou.._

No, of course it was Hikaru who walked through the door a moment later, grinning wildly and waving to the class. "Hi, 'm Shindou Hikaru. Nice to meet everyone!"

_Don't make that cute face! _Akira thought angrily, displeased with what he felt was insincerity. The Hikaru he knew was brash and sometimes mean, and though he laughed a lot he was still a malevolent force in Akira's previously peaceful life.

"_Touya-kun_?" Tsutsui whispered, looking harshly to Akira, "_That's_ your roommate?"

Sticking his lower lip out in a raspberry, Akira nodded. "Why the heck are you complaining?" Tsutsui questioned in a low voice, leaning over the goban with wide blue eyes. "He's _hot_!"

_Shindou is anything but!_ Akira wanted to reply, but the bane of his existence had already caught sight of him and was making his way over. "Touya-san? So we have the same class now," he spoke softly, seeming out of character to Akira. Tsutsui looked Hikaru over appreciatively, and once the boy had made his way to their goban he was on his feet offering his hand.

"I'm Tsutsui Kimihiro, it's nice to meet you!"

Hikaru laughed, allowing his hand to be bobbed continuously as if he was being worshipped. _He must have no idea that Tsutsui wants him,_ Akira thought, feeling almost sour as he watched his friend beam. "I hope Touya hasn't spoken too badly of me," Hikaru said, finally dropping his hand and indicating to the goban, "would either of you like to play?"

Standing quickly, Akira moved away from his spot. Hikaru had constantly pestered him for a game, and he'd made it his mission in life not to give in. "I'm going to record the kifu; you guys have fun." As the teen walked away, he heard his roommate and Tsutsui exchanging pleasantries. _Geez_, he thought, moving across the room to mark his win against Tsutsui, _what happened to the obnoxious Hikaru who tries to steal my bed and yells about me being too quiet?_ Akira had no idea where the publically acceptable Shindou had come from, but he knew it was just a façade that would probably fade by the time he got home that evening.

He was right.

* * *

It was after midnight when Akira left the library, struggling to hold all of his books while walking slowly across the deserted campus. He stuck to the sidewalks, jade eyes cast down, attempting to avoid glimpsing the ominous silhouettes of ancient oaks that littered the night sky and filled the dead air with mysterious rustling sounds. A light breeze picked up, bringing goosebumps to the teen's exposed arms. He shivered, even though it was still August and the summer air was ripe with heat.

The heels of Akira's leather shoes clapped the ground and echoed every so often; he winced each time, wishing he'd finished his study session earlier to avoid such a long, lonesome walk.

"Well," he said out loud, addressing himself since no one could hear him, "at least Shindou will probably be gone by the time I get back." Not that he'd taken that into account when he'd made his decision to finish an extra study-guide that night… but, one shouldn't question good fortune. Akira smiled, hugging his books into his chest and walking with a little more bounce. Hikaru would definitely be off at a party of some sort, he always seemed to have some kind of social engagement desperately vying for his attention. How a week-old transfer student became so popular so quickly was beyond Akira, but he'd never understood social dynamics anyways. "Maybe they just see something in him I don't," he scoffed, kicking the concrete and picking up his pace.

Akira made it back to his dorm in record time, struggling to fish a keycard from his pocket while still maintaining the delicate balance of books on his left arm. The teen finally managed, swiping the small card through the metal keylock on the outer door and waiting for the _click_ to alert him to its opening. Sliding the key back into his pocket, Akira struggled to pull the heavy door open and shimmy inside.

He made his way up several flights of concrete stairs, leather heels clicking and reverberating through the narrow stairwell. Akira kept his books pushed into his chest, musing over facts absently to himself as he mechanically took each step upwards. After the third flight he stopped, using his back to push open a heavy, industrial like door and enter into a barren hallway. Blue carpet spanned underfoot, and Akira moved over it gracefully through several hallways until he came to a stop in front of his dorm's door.

Sprawling, golden kanji spelled 'Touya Akira' on the door, and tapped to a piece of notebook paper underneath Hikaru had added his own name. ("_I should be the one with my name in gold! It's not like anyone comes to see you." – "Maybe I'd have company if my roommate wasn't so obnoxious!"_)

Akira managed to pull his keycard from his pocket yet again, sliding it over the handle of the door and then quickly pushing his way inside. The dorm was dark; Akira blindly set his books on the floor by the door and kicked his shoes off, stretching his arms out wide and yawning. It was peaceful without Hikaru and his friends around to bother him. Slowly undoing his belt, the teen ambled across the small room to the corner where his bed was – it'd been a long day, and he was ready to crash.

Moonlight cascading in from the window above Akira's bed slowly began to illuminate the room - more because the boy's eyes were adjusting to the darkness, rather than any actual change in the intensity of the light. Emerald orbs followed the stream of radiance to a series of unusual lumps in his comforter; his pupils dilated in the darkness, but it did not take him long to discern Hikaru's peaceful face crushed against _his_ pillow.

Oh, and there was a naked girl sprawled over his chest. Akira winced, quickly averting his eyes from her bare breasts. Or at least the single visible one.

"Shindou -_san_," the dark haired teen growled lowly, going through various emotions at finding Hikaru in his bed with a woman, settling on anger. Akira leaned forward and shoved his roommate roughly, not regretting it for a moment when the peace fell from Hikaru's face and his amber eyes slid open. Blond fringe sprawled over the teen's cheeks, and he looked almost cute as he stared up uncertainly at Akira in a post-sleep haze.

Quickly enough recognition marred the boy's face; he sat up sharply, the covers and female both sliding off of his naked chest. "Oh!" he yelled, sounding stupid, "We fell asleep!"

Akira tried not to tremble in anger. "No, is that what you were doing?" he felt a vein in his neck throb – for the first time in his life he wanted to strike someone. Sex? In his bed? And he wasn't even the one having it? "Get out. Get out of my bed right now."

The smaller teen must have sounded deadly serious, because Hikaru was out of the bed in a moment's time. Akira saw his butt, but his roommate moved so quickly he missed everything else. After a second Hikaru had slid himself into a pair of boxers (from the floor), and was quickly gathering the unnamed and unconscious woman in Akira's bed's clothing. The aforementioned pissed off boy stepped back from the flurry, setting his belt on his desk and standing there looking malevolent.

"Hey, baby, wake up," Hikaru murmured, shaking the naked woman in Akira's bed haphazardly. She opened her eyes slowly, and immediately caught sight of Akira glowering at her. Bolting upright and covering her breasts, the girl scrounged for the covers and pulled them over herself, flushing violently.

_Not interested_, Akira wanted to say, but kept it to himself.

Hikaru dumped the girl's clothing into her lap, while saying apologetically, "I don't think we can sleep here… get dressed and we can go back to your room?"

Consciousness had calmed Hikaru; the teen was now completely ignoring the tendrils of hate Akira was sending at him. He seemed pragmatic, simply trying to alleviate the situation as quickly as possible. "Touya-san, can you please step out so she can change?"

Akira rubbed the vein on his neck, realizing quickly this was the 'chivalrous' Hikaru he was being faced with. "…Fine," he spoke harshly, whipping around and crossing the dorm room with measured steps. He pulled the door open and stepped outside, slamming it in his wake and leaving the two love-birds to their nest. _I swear.. if they start up again_… Akira wished he kept a handgun. His head hurt, and his rage was slowly being replaced with exhaustion. And disgust. He definitely had to wash his sheets now.

Five minutes later the happy couple stepped out of the room; Hikaru shirtless in a pair of loose jeans and his woman in a short dress. "Touya-san," the female addressed him, and Akira found himself wondering how she knew his name. The door? Did Shindou tell her? The first situation required her to be observant, the second, Hikaru to be polite; he doubted both possibilities seriously. "Forgive me for intruding in your bed," she said, and Akira could tell she was the type who expected apologies to be accepted whole-heartedly.

For some reason that just made Akira mad again. "Yeah, whatever. Next time soil your own sheets." He brushed between Hikaru and the girl, not bothered enough to ask her name, and slid back into the dorm room. The door slid shut solidly behind him, and with the room empty Akira felt worn out. He had never been more ready to fall into his bed, even if it would probably smell like stinky Hikaru and sex.

Akira slid his pants off, swiftly pulling the green polo he'd been wearing over his head and discarding both articles of clothing on the floor with little care. Usually he would fold them neatly and place them on his computer chair or in the hamper, but he couldn't be bothered. Instead he glanced at the mirror across the room, looking at the boyish angles of his small chest and the narrow set of his hips. Akira considered how Hikaru had looked; well-built and solid, and he felt somehow envious of his roommate. He pulled at the ends of his hair; the blue hue of it standing out remarkably in the moonlight. Akira felt silly inspecting himself; he shook his head and readjusted his boxers, more than ready to surrender to unconsciousness.

The boy slid into his bed as if he lacked a spine, becoming one with the soft contours and cold linens. It didn't really smell; at least Akira didn't notice it. He was preoccupied with how insanely comfortable he was. The teen flopped over onto his stomach, bunching his feather pillow under his cheek before sliding his hands underneath it to the cool side. His fingers met something wet.

"No, he _wouldn't_," Akira gripped the object and pulled it out from under his pillow, unsurprised to find a used condom, _Hikaru's used condom_, in his grasp. Sitting up, the boy was suddenly angrier than he had been all night. "You couldn't even throw it away, you bastard!" he yelled, as if Hikaru were standing right in front of him.

Akira shoved his covers off, jumping out of his bed and rushing furiously to the couch. He threw the condom on it with frustration, whirling around and wishing he could somehow have revenge against that inconsiderate bastard. "I'll cut up his clothes!" he said, running over to his desk and pulling open the top drawer in search of scissors. He found a pair, but underneath he found something even better.

Food coloring.

Evil grin in place, Akira removed the ancient dyes and picked out a pink one. He'd never been happier to have taken that HomeEc class in high school, and refused to throw away his food dye because he was _sure_ he'd need it.

And look, he did!

"What to ruin, what to ruin," Akira mused, stepping onto the plush circle of carpet that covered the white linoleum floor of his room. The teen wiggled his toes, looking over Hikaru's area with dark intentions. Next to the couch resided his roommate's toiletries; shampoo, soap, toothpaste. Akira grabbed the shampoo, unscrewing the cap and throwing it on the floor. "Wait," he murmured, setting the shampoo down. "That bastard always steals mine."

It was decided. Akira kept his toiletries near the door to the bathroom. He grabbed his shampoo and was glad to find it almost empty. This would be Hikaru's punishment, and it would be killing two birds with one stone. If he stole the last of Akira's shampoo, he was getting dyed. The teen repressed a cackle, dumping the entire contents of his small bottle of coloring into the viscous shampoo with little reserve. Hikaru would get what was coming to him. Akira added a loud, "Asshole..!" for good measure, feeling slightly manic from sleep deprivation and anger.

The cap screwed back on with a _click_, and Akira left the bottle with the rest of his shower supplies. He forced himself back into his bed, yawned, and promptly fell asleep.

xxx

Akira awoke to a gut-wrenching scream, which on any other occasion would have upset him. This particular morning, though, he simply smiled - leaning back against his pillow and crossing his arms behind his head. Revenge; there was nothing sweeter.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and a still-dripping-wet Hikaru stepped out clad only in a towel. The blond fringe of his hair was a soft pink, and to Akira's surprise, the larger teen's skin was also tinted the girlish color. "…What did you do?" Hikaru sounded venomous, turning slit eyes towards his reclining roommate.

"Oh, gee, you must have gotten into my science experiment. I'd've told you about it, but, you know, it's _my _shampoo." Akira had never been smugger; his grin was so high on his face he looked comical.

Hikaru twitched. "You did this on purpose! Bastard!" The boy lunged across the room, towel magically staying in place, and jumped on top of the bed. Akira had no time to react before Hikaru's full weight was crushing his midsection; he felt drops of water from the larger male's hair dripping onto his face as his writhed around and tried to wiggle away from him. Hikaru seemed to be serious though. After a moment blows began to connect with Akira's ribs, and the teen had to cover his face desperately to avoid any significant damage.

Swinging his fist up, the smaller of the two thumped Hikaru in the jaw and stunned him momentarily. Akira used the opportunity to clamp his legs around his cherry attacker's torso, turning them over so that he was on top. Akira had studied kung fu for several years; he was suddenly very glad of it.

Now Hikaru was even more pissed off, and while he was still swinging Akira struggled to grab his wrists and pin them against either side of his wet and now slightly pink pillow. "If you could throw a god damn condom away!" he yelled, pinching his knees forcefully into Hikaru's ribs. His roommate grimaced, shaking his body and seeming surprised at how effective Akira was at pinning him. The shaking upset Akira; he was only in his boxers, and Hikaru was right beneath him. The smaller boy blushed distractedly, suddenly a bit self-conscious.

"You dyed me _PINK!" _the teen roared, using the bounce of the bed to dislodge Akira and send him tumbling onto the cold floor. The covers spilled over the side of the bed with him; both boys regarded each other with heated expressions, panting.

"Well," Akira started, blush fading, "to be fair, I didn't know you'd use my shampoo as body-wash, too."

Hikaru threw the pillow behind him at his roommate's face. "Fuck you," he growled, shaking his head wildly to send pink-tinted drops of water over Akira's mattress.

"Dry off like a normal person!" the dark haired boy insisted; standing up, Akira attempted to flick the teen's forehead. Hikaru tried to grab and twist his wrist, but the smaller boy stepped back before he could. Akira smiled. "Have fun in school today."

Before Hikaru could start hitting him again, the smaller boy skirted across the room to his dresser and started pulling out clothes. He glimpsed his roommate slide off the bed and begin heading towards the bathroom. "Hey, Touya-fuckhead," Hikaru called; Akira turned to regard him, and was met with his pink-tinted middle finger:

"This means war."

_o_

_Acta Est Fabula_

_o  
_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: **Writing this in one day was a lot of work. So many games were played; Wet, Flatout, Haunting Ground, Kingdom Hearts.. it was pretty impressive. I don't have much to say except that next chapter some romance will begin. :)

OH, HEY, LOOK, IT LETS YOU REVIEW!

..

...

I WONDER WHAT THAT FUNCTION IS FOR.

(please review; it makes me feel nice. Really really nice. Even if it's a review of little substance.)

_e:"I need a title; something kind of cultured."_

_r:"Transformers?"_

_e:"H..How is that cultured?"_

_r:"Because Hikaru transforms into a gay!"_


	2. My Lady Friend is Weeping for Me

**Title: **Uneasy Coexistence

**Description:** In which the sexually repressed gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college.

**Paring(s):** Touya Akira / Shindou Hikaru

**Comment notes: **Ichigo1010; BrokenPsychopath; LittleNK; Alteegry; Hispanic Tenshi; "asdf"; & "Ti-Ti"; thank you all for the kind reviews. Food for the writer's soul.

**Author's Notes: **I just finished reading Hikaru no Go. God, it's so good. I swear that manga is secretly yaoi.

*****The "ear-reddening" move originated from a game between Honinbo Shusaku and Inoue Genan Inseki. Shusaku was a young player at the time he challenged Genan to a game; while everyone in the room thought Genan was winning, a doctor noticed after a certain move in the game Genan's ears became red with frustration. Shusaku won, and it became one of his most famous.

**Kubikajiri; in Japanese mythology a ghost that lost its head and wanders graveyards eating the heads of others, both living and dead.

* * *

_Chapter Two_

_My Lady Friend is Weeping for Me_

_

* * *

_

Touya Akira was not an evil man. He was not cruel, and he had never particularly taken joy in someone else's misery. Such pettiness he considered himself beyond; which was why the day Shindou Hikaru (his roommate, classmate, and main antagonist in life) walked into Go class twenty minutes late with pink skin and cherry bangs was a very surprising day for Akira. Not because he hadn't known, he'd done it; simply because the teen had never been so satisfied to see a person look so embarrassed.

"Shindou…kun?"

The entire class looked up. Today they had been studying ancient Go techniques; each student was balanced delicately atop a pillow, listening attentively as their sensei read aloud from a large textbook cradled in his palm. Fujiwara Sai, master Go player, sputtered in surprise for a moment after Hikaru slid the metallic gray door to the classroom open and stepped inside. "Um, Shindou." The teacher clarified, blinking a few times, "You're… late."

_Nice cover_, Akira thought, suppressing the urge to laugh hysterically. Growing up, he had never thought he would be so vengeful.

"Yes, Fujiwara-sensei," Hikaru said, pink cheeks reddening. "I was, uh, showering…"

Akira snickered, earning a sharp look from some of the girls in his class that had taken a liking to Hikaru. It was simply too perfect, he couldn't resist. Fujiwara pinned the dark haired teen with a stare, and then flipped a long strand of purple-tinted hair over his shoulder and indicated to an empty cushion towards the middle of the room. "No need to explain, Shindou. Take your seat. We're reading about Honinbo Shusaku."

Maneuvering through the room, Hikaru chose an empty spot directly behind Akira. The smaller teen's neck prickled; he tensed, wondering if his roommate was already planning to engage in the 'war' he had promised that very morning.

Nothing happened.

Akira zoned in and out of his morning's lesson, more concerned with the malevolent force at attention right behind him. The teen didn't know what to expect with Hikaru at such an advantage point. Gum in the hair? Spitballs? He grimaced, glancing slyly over his shoulder at the blond-fringed boy behind him and finding the larger male following studiously along in his textbook. _Fffff,_ Akira thought, wetting his lips and turning back towards the front of the room, _this is bad_. He already knew everything there was to know about Shusaku; what he wanted to know was what Hikaru was planning. There was no way his roommate would pass up Akira being helpless. He'd dyed him _pink_ after all!

From the front of the room Fujiwara Sai's voice echoed softly, "_Shusaku met Genan Inseki in July 1846 when he returned to __Edo__ after staying in __Onomichi__ for eighteen months. Shusaku was 17 years old and a 4-__dan__ player at the time…"_ Akira perked up, listening to a familiar story about an epic game from Shusaku he had once studied. Would Hikaru pull an 'ear-reddening'* move on him?

Again Akira's eyes ebbed over his shoulder, this time catching Hikaru staring right at the back of his head. Amber orbs slid over his face like butter, and Akira turned around so abruptly he felt the muscles in his neck protest. He was feeling sick now - sick with twisted anticipation. The waiting was killing him. _Make your move!..._ he wanted to scream, simply so it could be over with.

Still, nothing happened.

Taking a shuddering breath, Akira wondered if things were safe. He tried to relax, but still every iota of his attention focused on the boy behind him. He strained to listen, hearing the slight rustle of fabric behind him. Akira swung around, staring with wide eyes at Hikaru.

"…What?" the teen in question asked, looking perturbed. He had been reading along in the textbook.

Akira flushed, turning around sharply. "Nothing."

If Akira had been looking, he would have seen Hikaru grinning menacingly behind him. As it was, the smaller of the two had finally somewhat convinced himself he was safe; he followed along as they read about Shusaku's rise to 7-Dan, still harshly aware of Hikaru in the back of his mind. All this fretting was making Akira's head hurt; he lowered his eyes, pressing the pads of his fingers into them and sighing. He stayed like that, massaging his tear ducts with his eyes closed.

_Thump_

Something collided with the back of Akira's skull. The boy's eyes shot open; he yelped, arms flying up to wave around his head. Surely this was Hikaru's attack? The hairs on his neck prickled as the teen fell to the side off of his cushion, heart pounding wildly from the rush of adrenalin. He hit the floor, twisting his body around to stare in shock at Hikaru.

What he saw was not Hikaru, but a pair of feet connected to one Fujiwara Sai. "S..Sensei?" Akira sputtered, looking up at his teacher's face in surprise. Fujiwara was laughing, holding his characteristic fan out in mid-air. So that's what hit him…

Akira turned red, suddenly wanting to disappear. The entire class was laughing; the teen shimmied back into his spot and watched the front of the room with hard eyes. "Daydreaming, Touya-san?" Fujiwara asked, tucking his fan into the long sleeves of his Heian-period styled robes. Akira grimaced, displeased that this gaudy person had managed to scare him so badly his heart was _still_ pounding. "Pay attention," the long-haired man clarified; Akira felt the warmth at his back disappear as his sensei stepped away and returned to reading.

Nothing else happened until free-study. Akira remained shaken, sitting still even as the rest of his class began pulling out gobans and challenging each other to games. The boy clamped his hands on his knees, staring at the floor in front of him. He felt the warmth of another person approaching him, and did not have to look up to know Hikaru was crouching in front of him. "Touya-san…" the larger teen spoke rougher than he usually did in public, "let's play a game."

Akira scoffed, looking up. He jerked back, surprised at how close Hikaru was to his face. "Didn't I already tell you I never wanted to play a game with you?" he questioned, struggling to stand up.

"You have to play me," the other boy protested, standing with him. "You dyed me _pink_!"

Tucking a strand of blue-hued hair behind his ear, Akira glanced over the room in search of Tsutsui. "And I don't feel bad about it at all," he said, moving to step away once he caught sight of his friend setting up a board alone. A hand on his wrist stopped him; Akira turned around sharply and ripped his hand away from Hikaru's. "Don't-" he started, but the other teen interrupted him.

"Play me," he insisted, growling. "If you win I won't try to get you back for dying me pink. You can relax and not freak the fuck out every time someone even brushes you…" Hikaru looked thoughtful for a moment, "I'm actually kind of honored you find me so intimidating."

"Don't be," Akira said automatically. He didn't want to, but he was considering his roommate's proposal. "And if you win?" he asked, leaning back and putting his weight on his left leg.

Hikaru hesitated, before smiling. "Then you have to do one thing for me. Whatever I say. And after you do it I'll consider us even."

"Only one thing…" Akira repeated, glancing over to Tsutsui. The dark-haired boy was staring at him, obviously waiting for their usual game. _One second_, Akira mouthed to him, before turning to Hikaru and nodding. "As long as I don't have to do sexual favors."

Laughing, Hikaru nudged the smaller boy. "I thought you'd like that," he murmured, one brow raised suggestively.

"Definitely not!"

Hikaru led Akira away from his seat, stopping in front of an empty goban he had already set up and looking expectantly at the teen. Akira slid smoothly onto his knees across from his roommate, watching with a rocky expression as he too sat. "Nigiri," Akira breathed, dipping his hand into a small vat of white stones and dumping them on the goban. Hikaru followed suit, setting two black stones on the board and regarding the opponent with stony eyes.

Now that they were perched for battle, Akira felt the beginnings of panic. Something about Hikaru scared him; in the way he moved and his engulfing size. He'd never played the teen before, but he'd heard from many friends that the blond-fringed boy was more than adequate with the stones. The teen took a deep breath, counting the white stones that littered the board. _Two, four, six…_ _damn, he gets black._ Hikaru seemed to realize the same thing; he smiled roughly, scooping his stones back into the bowl and locking eyes with Akira.

"Please," they said simultaneously, feeling friction in the air.

Hikaru began the first hand, immediately placing a black stone on the upper right kosumi. It resonated through the room with a _pa-chi_, sending a shiver down Akira's spine. The smaller boy retaliated quickly, placing his own stone softly across the board.

_Pa-chi_

Next Hikaru positioned a stone at the lower right kosumi, a move Akira had expected and countered quickly, placing his hand nearby to surround his roommate. _Pa-chi pa-chi_. The game began to heat up; Hikaru moved next to the 15-16 kosumi in an attempt to block Akira. Raising to the challenge the smaller of the two attacked, placing his stone at the 14-16 kosumi and staring up with fire in his eyes.

_Pa-chi_

_Pa-chi_

_Pa-chi_

The game sprang on, with Hikaru attacking mercilessly while Akira barely hung on to a weakly planned defense. He had made a mistake, moving too early in the beginning and misreading the board. Winning seemed to be an unreachable goal, but the teen was too stubborn to resign. "Still going?" Hikaru teased, shattering the line of Akira's defense again and taking five komi.

Akira reached into his stones, stopping midway with a shaking hand. "I.." he started, dropping the stone back into the bowl. The boy gripped his knees tightly, lowering his eyes and swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat, "I have nothing."

"You underestimated me," Hikaru whispered, standing up and bowing slightly. "See you back at the dorm."

Fearful anticipation wound its way up Akira's spine.

* * *

Touya Akira stood in front of one Shindou Hikaru in complete and utter shock. The larger boy hovered in the middle of their dorm, holding up what Akira thought to be one of the most embarrassing articles of clothing he'd ever seen. A dress. Not just a dress, but a short white sundress decorated with black frills and a large, soft looking bow. Dark silky cloth wrapped around the waist of the ensemble, with soft flowering patterns flowing up from its hem. It was so girly he wanted to choke.

"Are you kidding?" Akira asked, standing paralyzed in the doorway.

Hikaru laughed, and he sounded evil as he did so. "You agreed to do _whatever_ I said. I'm saying put on this dress and clean our dorm; like a good little woman," he paused, grinning, "You already have the hair for it."

Sputtering, Akira stepped into the room and glared at Hikaru. "Asshole," he enunciated roughly, snatching the dress from his roommate's hands and starting towards the bathroom. At some point during the day Hikaru had found the time to come back to the dorm; it looked as if he'd thrown a massive party, with books ripped from their shelves and empty bottles littering the floor. There was trash everywhere, and Akira had to step over large chunks of it to get to the bathroom door.

"Hey," the larger boy called, "You forgot something."

Akira turned around, pinning his friend with a dark glance. Hikaru held up a pair of beige leggings and dark pumps, smiling from ear to ear. "Real ladies don't show too much skin."

"Why do you even have this crap?" Akira yelled, hardly able to believe the situation he was in.

"I'm in the drama club," the larger male explained, tossing the heels and leggings across the small dorm to Akira. He caught them lightly, shaking his head and disappearing into the bathroom.

He stepped out a few minutes later, vest and dress pants shed and in their place the soft ashen gown he'd received. Hikaru was sitting on the couch, and the moment he caught sight of Akira he burst out laughing. Appreciatively, he clapped, "Such a lovely little lady!" The blond-fringed boy was off his seat in a heartbeat, crossing the room and examining his torture victim up close.

Akira looked good. The dress would be too tight for any girl, but it clung to the tight contours of the dark haired boy's body perfectly, following tightly down to his boyish hips before fraying out in soft waves of fabric. It stopped mid-thigh, tickling the beige stockings that stretched over his lithe legs like smooth icing. Hikaru paused, blinking, before shaking his head and grinning. The pumps Akira wore made him a few inches taller; not as tall as his roommate, but closer. "You look ridiculous," Hikaru breathed, leaning close to Akira and shoving into his palm a feather duster. "Get to work."

Doing as he was told, Akira began cleaning the room. Girly clothing aside, he was actually happy to be doing so. All the dirt and trash and objects out of place were killing him, and organizing it all made him happy.

However, the clothing did displease him quite a bit.

It was impractical, the stockings bunched uncomfortably every few steps and the fabric was itchy, while the bow on his chest kept getting caught on things. "This sucks," he muttered, on his hands and knees in the middle of the dorm fishing up trash. Hikaru was stretched out on the couch, feet on the coffee table, looking like a picture of comfort.

"Women are to be seen, not heard," he reminded, scratching the back of his head and looking bored.

Akira rolled his eyes, struggling back to his feet and smoothing out the dress. He started to throw the trash away, before realizing he was holding a pair of girl's panties. "What the-" he started, gaining Hikaru's attention.

"Uhh," the teen stood and rushed to Akira's side, snatching away the underwear and shoving it in his pocket. "Just be glad I didn't make you wear those."

Snorting, the smaller of the two turned away. "Right-o," he mumbled, going about organizing the room. He didn't look at Hikaru, and thus did not see him pull a camera from of his pocket and grip it. Instead, Akira located the feather-duster and began dusting his desk. He hummed under his breath, content to be removing the grime from his life. After his desk was shining he moved to the fan, hardly paying attention as he stretched up to try and dust the blades. The teen couldn't quite reach; he strained onto his tip-toes and tried to clean, but still could not. Lifting one leg and wavering a moment, Akira was finally able to get the blades clean. As he wiped them he smiled, so out of it he didn't hear the small _click_ coming from Hikaru's camera.

"…Perfect," Hikaru whispered under his breath, tucking the camera into his back pocket and dropping down onto the couch.

He enjoyed the rest of Akira's cleaning show with a dark smile on his face.

xxx

The next morning Akira awoke to an empty dorm room; he thought nothing of it, assuming Hikaru had made an uncharacteristic move and gone to their daily go class early that day. He dressed in silence, unused to a morning without Hikaru's constant complaining. After a quick cup of coffee Akira was out the door; he stopped dead in his tracks, staring across the hallway at the wall in front of him. It was covered in fliers, upon which each bore a picture of him from last night. The teen looked on in complete horror, not exactly surprised to find them, but simply at how prompt Hikaru was in their circulation.

Palming his cheek, Akira sighed. "Geez," he murmured, "He could have at least gotten me at a better angle."

Akira made his way to class, passing by lots of whispering girls in his dorm building. He was in the middle of the quad before anyone actually approached him; Tsutsui ran up to the dark haired teen, griping a flier tightly. "Can I have an autograph?" he laughed, thrusting the piece of paper out towards Akira and grinning lightly. "How did this happen anyways?"

"My dumbass roommate, of course," Akira explained, grabbing the paper and ripping it in half. "I don't really care," he continued, "but it's probably going to bring me a lot of trouble."

Tsutsui adjusted his glasses, using his middle finger to slide them up his nose. They caught the light; momentarily blinding Akira who blinked fiercely several times in a row, shaking his head and looking at his friend. "So why were you in a dress anyways..?" the older teen questioned, looking smugly over Akira. "I didn't know you were into crossdressing."

"I'm not! I lost a game of go to him."

"I told you he was strong," The two began walking together, laughing amicably on their way to class. Akira pointedly ignored the stares he received, figuring with time talk would die down.

When they made it to class all chatter died down. Fifteen sets of eyes all turned to Akira, and against his better judgment the boy turned red. "Good morning," he called, ignoring the looks and making his way towards his seat. He sat down, Tsutsui sitting next to him, and looked around the room for Hikaru.

He didn't see him.

"Touya-san," Akira heard a melodious voice call; he looked up in time to see Fujiwara-sensei fluttering across the room towards him, piece of paper held in hand. "What's this…?" he questioned, dropping the piece of paper in Akira's lap. "I found it on my door. Ne," his sensei leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You crossdress too?"

"No, sensei," Akira said calmly, slightly perturbed at his teacher's forwardness, _wait did he say 'too'?_ "Shindou-san just played a little joke on me."

Fujiwara covered his lips with his fan, making a soft humming sound that Akira couldn't hear. "Because you died him pink?" the flamboyant man proposed, seeming prophetic.

"Shindou told you about that, huh?"

"We play go after class," his sensei clarified, before stepping away from Akira and floating back to the front of the room. "Class?" Fujiwara called, demanding all attention, "Today will just be independent study."

With Fujiwara sensei gone, Akira was free to scope the room in search of Hikaru. The blonde-fringed was nowhere to be found, and Akira found that confusing since he hadn't been in their dorm that morning. His attention was pulled elsewhere though, as Tsutsui set a goban down in front of him. "Shall we play a game, Touya-san?" the studious boy proposed, indicating to the board.

Akira quickly agreed, losing himself in the fast pace of go. He listened absently to the music softly buzzing from Fujiwara's office; something old and filled with deep violins.

_Pa-chi_

_Pa-chi_

_Pa-chi_

After class, Akira approached Fujiwara Sai's office, curiosity lurking in the back of his mind. "Sensei," he called, knocking with his index finger on the ajar door; his voice soft, timid even. "I have a question," the dark haired boy announced, regarding his teacher as he flipped through various kifu from the day. Fujiwara indicated he should continue with a wave of his hand, seeming more interested in the scores before him. "Do you know why Shindou was absent?"

"Yes, I know why," the man said, still not looking up from his papers.

Akira waited patiently for his teacher to continue, and when he received no reply, he urged him on, "Why?"

Sai finally looked up, interest peaking in his eyes. "Well I can't tell you that, Touya; that would breach student-teacher confidentiality. And I still wouldn't tell you, because I consider Shindou a personal friend."

"I don't understand," Akira spoke softly, clasping his hands in front of his waist, "is it something to do with the fliers?"

"No, but maybe if they found out about that he would pay for it," Fujiwara whispered thoughtfully, dropping his head back and regarding the ceiling.

"They?" Akira repeated, pilfering for information.

Sai turned back to Akira, smiling lightly. "Nice try, Touya-kun, but I'm not that easy. Let's just say that your friend might not be who you think he is."

_So, he's a good person?_ Akira wanted to ask, but instead only nodded, making to leave the office. "Touya-kun," his sensei called after him, making him stop in his tracks. "Sign your picture for me sometime!" he sang; pulling the flier from his sleeve and waving it around, effectively breaking the ominous mood.

With a shiver Akira left for next class.

xxx

Akira was on the way back to his dorm room, having just left Ogata-sensei's calculus class and entered the quad. He enjoyed the heat of the day and the greenery around campus; it's scenic value calming him slightly. At midday, a little after noon, people had yet to quit staring at him about the fliers – he'd finally grown embarrassed about it. At least the lack of people around was a comfort. Most Toyo students spent the afternoon in the cafeteria, stuffing their faces with soy foods and rice.

The teen zoned out, listening to the click of his leather shoes on the cement walkway as he ambled on. They made a sort of melody, and he absently began humming to it. Akira was hardly paying attention to his surroundings, instead keeping his eyes glued dreamily to the crystal blue sky overhead. The sound of voices brought him back to earth though; his neck stiffened at the chatter of masculine voices coming from somewhere in front of him.

The dark-haired boy was almost halfway across the quad when his eyes finally found a group of three boys to whom the voices belonged. They were sharing their lunches beneath the large oak Akira and Tsutsui liked to study under on occasion, all laughing loudly together in an amicable way.

Akira paid them little mind, more interested in getting back to his room and preparing a nice lunch of udon. His stomach growled at the thought, and he palmed it lightly while following the concrete walkway.

Suddenly there was a change in the air. Akira tensed, realizing the group of boys had gone silent. He felt their eyes searing into him, and the teen had to force himself to keep walking stiffly ahead without saying anything. In his peripherals he saw movement; one of the boys had stood from his spot and was watching Akira pass like a snake. They whispered to each other, words floating through the air and grating against Akira's ears.

"Hey," the standing boy called, voice an octave high and drenched with sarcasm. "Why don't you come eat with us?"

The other two boys in the group giggled; Akira felt his ears redden. He walked rigidly, wetting his lips and staring straight ahead.

"Hey faggot – I'm talking to you!"

Akira passed directly by them, his entire body buzzing with anticipation. There had been occasions in his life when his sexuality had been mocked, but none quite as direct as this. He didn't know what to expect. Would they try to come up to him? Hit him? He kept his shoulders squared, walking along as if the boys didn't exist.

"Fine," he heard the standing one – the 'brave' one, mutter, "Be like that." Akira heard the crumpling of paper; it took all his willpower not to look over his shoulder at the boys to see what they were doing.

He found out a moment later anyways, as suddenly he was pelted in the back of the head with a paper ball. It skittered over his shoulder and fell to the ground. Akira stopped in his tracks, looking down at it with confusion. He saw his face on the outside, and sighed. These fliers were becoming quite the nuisance. _Thanks a lot, Hikaru_, he thought, straightening up and continuing his walk with as much dignity as possible.

The boys booed, but seemed to lose interest when they garnered no reaction from Akira. They shouted a few more insults at him, but generally died down.

Akira got out of eyesight after turning a corner; he stopped mid-step, shaky hands sliding his backpack from his shoulder and dropping it onto the ground. He shivered, arms slowly wrapping around his midsection for security. Even though it was scalding outside he felt cold; he dropped into a squatting position, breathing deeply and trying to hold back the sting in his eyes. He felt sick, body still reacting negatively to the stress from moments ago.

"Fuck," he whispered, leaning forward onto his knees and regarding the walkway. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, punching the concrete with each word. The teen was shaking uncontrollably, muscles convulsing. He'd been… scared.

He stayed like that a few moments more, before composing himself and continuing towards the dorm.

* * *

Hikaru arrived at the dorm a little after one, dragging his feet and tired from a long day. Wednesdays, he decided, were the worst day of the week. He hated them. The teen ran a hand through his bleached bangs, looking blankly around the halls of the dorm building and admiring the many fliers he'd woken up early to set. He felt a bit devious, to be honest.

Rounding the corner, Hikaru came upon his dorm room. He slipped his hand into his pocket, grabbing his keycard and whipping it out swiftly. The teen paid hardly any attention to the door as he opened it, only glancing up momentarily once the lock clicked. He went still, staring in shock at what he saw in front of him.

Someone had had the brilliant idea of putting a flier on his door; it was one of his own, but in large blocky letters across the picture it read, 'FAGGOT'. Hikaru winced, ripping the paper down immediately and shoving it in his pocket, hoping he'd beaten Akira home so his roommate wouldn't have to see it. Public ridicule was not his goal; he simply wanted everyone to see Akira in an embarrassing situation, like they'd seen him. Hikaru sighed and pushed the door open, suddenly very displeased with humanity.

Akira was sitting inside, lounging on the end of his bed and reading a book. Maybe the picture was posted after he'd already gotten back?

"Oh," his slight roommate said, looking up as Hikaru closed the door. "You took down the flier. That's a shame, I thought it was fitting."

Well, no such luck.

"I'm sorry," Hikaru said automatically, pulling the flier from his pocket and depositing it in the trashcan. "This wasn't the intention."

Akira went back to reading silently, the stillness making his roommate uncomfortable. "I know," he said absently after a moment, dabbing the pad of his thumb on his tongue and flipping a page, "I've dealt with things like this before. It'll pass. No big deal."

_Well aren't you calm_, Hikaru wanted to say. To be honest, he felt like he was more worked up than the actual victim here was. He drooped his shoulders, throwing himself face-first onto the blanket-covered couch and groaning contentedly. The boy was ready to fall asleep, and with Akira's silence he thought he might actually manage it. "Hey, Hikaru?" The dark headed teen called, making Hikaru look up from his mess of blankets, "Where were you today?"

Hikaru's stomach dropped; he leaned up, biceps shuddering slightly from holding all of his weight. "Can't say," he mused after a moment, sticking his tongue out at Akira to indicate he wasn't going to say anything more. The smaller boy watched him for a moment, before sighing and turning another page on his book. The movement caught Hikaru's eyes; he was surprised to find rough bandages encasing his roommate's right hand.

"What happened there?" he questioned, indicating to Akira's hand with his head.

The smaller boy held up his hand, looking at it as if he'd forgotten it existed. "Oh, this?" he mumbled, smiling, "I can't tell you."

Hikaru rubbed his nose, mind going to the worst-case-scenario. Had Akira gotten beaten up because of the posters? Did someone hurt him because of what he had done?

Oh guilt, how you sting.

The larger of the two teens sat back on the couch, sighing loudly to indicate his displeasure. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the headrest and feeling tired. Akira said nothing more, and in the silence Hikaru slipped off to sleep. He had class in an hour.

xxx

"You don't have to walk me to class - I'm not a little kid," Akira complained, shifting his backpack around on his shoulder and glaring up at one Shindou Hikaru; the male in question had been insisting for several days on trailing his feminine roommate from class-to-class as backup 'muscle' to avoid any incidents. Hikaru took reconciliation to a whole new level, but to Akira it was an unwanted burden. "Not a single thing has happened in two days, stop it already."

Hikaru ignored the dark haired boy, looking out over the quad with squinted eyes. The two walked in silence; Akira sighing repeatedly every few seconds and sending haughty looks at his pseudo-stalker. "God," the smaller of the duo breathed, "You're like a clingy girlfriend."

"Don't pretend you wouldn't like that," Hikaru grinned, sticking his tongue out and dodging when Akira tried to smack him.

"I'd rather have my eyes eaten out by Kubikajiri*."

They stopped in front of Akira's Study of the Romantic Languages class, hovering outside the door and awkwardly looking at each other. "Listen," Akira finally started, looking uncomfortable, "There are other reasons you can't keep following me around. People will talk."

Hikaru, who had been playing with a flier from the European Club, lofted a chocolate brow; "And what would they talk about?"

"Us. You, me. They'll say we're… dating, or something ridiculous. I can handle that stuff, because at least I'm actually gay. It's different when it's not true." Akira pulled his backpack off his shoulder, pulling open the door to his class and stepping halfway inside. He stopped, regarding Hikaru coldly, "Isn't the whole reason you're doing this to avoid stuff like that? I have A & P after this; I don't want to find you waiting for me when I'm done."

"Bu-"

"No buts," Akira continued firmly. "I can handle myself. Quit pretending to be mister nice-guy just because you fucked up."

With that the smaller boy stepped inside, slamming the door in Hikaru's face. "Geeze," the blond-fringed teen breathed, "I'm not pretending." Well, if Akira didn't want his help then he wasn't going to get it. Hikaru tucked a blond strand of hair behind his ear, walking away. It didn't matter anyways.

It was six when Akira finally got out of class; he hesitated when he didn't see Hikaru, but only for a moment. The dark haired teen hadn't expected his words to get through his roommate's thick skull. He didn't know why but… getting what he wanted kind of put him off. Yes, Hikaru's incessant chatter and shadowing him was annoying, but it had been somewhat… amusing. And maybe he'd felt a bit safer. Maybe.

"What_ever_," Akira groaned, distractedly shoving his books into his bag. He paused, pulling out one of the texts and looking at it. "Oh, crap," he murmured, realizing the book was due back at the library today. The teen shrugged back the sleeve of his button-down and glanced at his watch, wincing. The library closed in fifteen minutes.

Akira broke out into a run with the book clenched to his chest, backpack bouncing on his shoulders and hair streaming behind his head. The sky was growing dark outside; the moon peeked out from behind cottony cumulous clouds, barely visible through the school's tinted windows. Akira's shoes smacked the linoleum, reverberating through the empty halls. His breath came in huffs; a moment later he reached the end of the hall and burst outside through a set of double doors.

In the quad now, the slight boy continued his fevered run. He passed several stragglers on his way, earning strange looks. "Akira?" one called, and he looked back to see Hikaru walking with a group of friends.

Akira didn't stop, simply yelling a quick, "Gotta go!" over his shoulder. Hikaru stared after him, then looked back and forth between his two friends.

"Yeah, he's pretty weird," the teen said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly at their glances.

Cutting through the grass, Akira disappeared behind a cluster of trees and left Hikaru staring after him blankly. He was approaching another building; a group of teens were mulling outside the front door, smoking cigarettes and talking. Akira cut through them, pulling the door open and lurching inside. Over his own breathing he heard one remark, "Isn't that that g-"

The door slammed closed and Akira doubled over, breathing roughly. He lurched towards the counter, slamming his book down and staring up at the surprised looking librarian. She was a student at the school, with long brown hair and honey skin. A strand of hair fell into Akira's eye; he blew out a puff of air to move it, never once breaking eye contact. "Ahh, Touya-san," she breathed, taking the book lightly, "Thank you for being so prudent. You know…" the girl looked around the library, "if the library had closed you could have just dropped it in the shoot outside."

"I'll keep that in mind." Akira straightened, dusting his clothes and taking a few more deep breaths.

He readjusted his backpack before turning around and stepping out the door. Cool evening air rushed over the boy, sending a shiver up his spine. Akira let out a wispy breath, casting emerald eyes up at the sky. It was dim, graying, and the moon had grown prominent among the clouds. The group of kids who had previously been in front of the door had moved further down, loitering under a blinking streetlamp in a hale of smoke. Akira blinked at them, squinting at the indiscernible silhouettes with uncertainty. He was feeling uneasy. Their laughter sounded cruel to him, and he could see their whites of their eyes lingering in his direction.

_Be cool_, Akira chided himself mentally, _just because it happened once…_

He started towards the group, intended to make it back to his room and relax. Hikaru looked like he'd be going out, so he would have the night to himself and a good book. _Yes,_ he thought, _just say excuse me and pass through. This isn't a big deal_.

Akira felt his hand shaking at his side. He gripped the strap of his backpack to steady it, then began walking slowly towards the group. Maybe he should have gone through the grass… but he didn't want to let himself form some kind of complex about groups of men. He was not a small helpless person, and he wouldn't let fear push him around.

"Excuse me," he said rather forcefully once he reached the group. One of the guys turned around, a cigarette balanced delicately between his lips.

Akira tightened up, recognizing the teen from somewhere. "Well, look! It's our resident faggot."

The dark haired boy's stomach dropped. He felt out of breath; that voice was the voice of the guy from under the oak tree. Of course. The one time he was without Hikaru… of course he'd run into them. Somewhere in the back of Akira's mind the words, _Hikaru's going to give me so much shit for this_, rang out.

"Why wouldn't you eat with us the other day?" the leader of the group asked, his voice tart. Akira immediately began taking steps backwards; everything in his body told him he was in a dangerous situation. The dark figure before him followed, and as did the three boys behind him. "Where're you going?"

Akira turned out his heel, breaking out into a sprint. He took two steps, felt something catch his collar, and lagged, feet jutting out and body crashing backwards. Solidly the teen crashed into his pursuer's chest; he deftly recognized the sound of his dress-shirt ripping slightly down the back. "No!" he screamed, feeling large arms twist him around and throw him into the group of males. They were all laughing as Akira stumbled, barely catching his balance before he hit the concrete. He immediately tried to run again, but was met with an impenetrable wall of broad chests and angry faces.

"Think you're too good for us, _faggot_?" sounded the voice of his main antagonist. Akira winced, turning in a full circle and finding he was surrounded. Overhead the streetlamp flickered; shadows covered the entire group. Another boy chimed in, "Maybe he only likes queers!"

From behind a set of rough hands shoved Akira's back; he staggered forward, meeting another set of arms that propelled him across the circle. The teen screamed, constantly being thrust violently from boy to boy. They all laughed, yelling curses at him. Akira had never been in this situation; his head bounced back and forth, eyes swimming. He felt completely helpless.

_Make a break for it!_ His mind screamed, but with all the voices around him and the mass amount of adrenalin flooding his system, he was too scared. "You shouldn't exist!" one screamed, grabbing Akira by the shoulders and kneeing him in the stomach. The boy doubled over; one shove from across the circle sent him tumbling to the ground. "Fucking…" one started, kicking him roughly. The others joined in, seemingly enjoying themselves.

Akira groaned, feeling nauseous from pain. He batted at one of the legs that came at his face, blocking it with fever. Once it receded he grabbed after it, pulling furiously forward until the owner of the leg wavered and hit the ground. Akira scrambled, ignoring a foot that slammed into his back. He skirted over the fallen teen, clawing at the concrete in a fevered attempt to get away.

Freedom seemed to be close, until again someone caught the back of his shirt and pulled hard. Akira cried out, feeling his body fly around until he came face-to-face with the leader of the group. A shock slammed through his body; the boy holding him cocked his arm back to punch him square in the face.

Akira's eyes widened.

xxx

"Why is your roommate so weird, anyways?" Shinichiro Isumi asked, staring as Akira rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, clutching a book and looking desperate.

Hikaru shook his head, smiling. "I don't know. He's not a bad guy, though. He tries to act tough."

Isumi nodded, mind turning away from Akira. "Where's the party, anyways?" he asked, glancing at his watch. He and the second member of their group, Yoshitaka Waya, turned expectantly towards Hikaru. The teen simply messed with his blond fringe, looking around the quad.

"In the West Dorms."

Waya spoke up, sounding alarmed. "What? Then why are we on the Eastern side of campus? We'll be late!"

"Uhh," Hikaru lagged, wetting his lips. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been loitering around the Science department since six. The teen just wanted to keep a noncommittal eye on Akira; he'd heard things around campus - a group of gay-bashers at the school had had an eye out for his roommate, and they wanted blood. It was Hikaru's fault they knew about Akira, and he was determined to right his wrong.

Shushing him, Waya started again. "Nevermind, nevermind. Let's just go!" He started herding the other two boys, but Hikaru resisted.

"I can't go…" he breathed, wetting his lips. "Not yet."

Hikaru heard a small yelp from the direction Akira had gone. His stomach turned, and he whipped around immediately. Waya and Isumi looked at him strangely; "What's wrong?" they asked in unison, apparently having heard nothing.

"You two go without me. I have to take care of something," Hikaru said, turning away from his friends; he broke into a sprint, feet carrying him in the direction Akira had gone. Bits of grass kicked up under his heels, flying through the air in small arches before hitting the ground. Hikaru slowed, spreading his way through low braches as he stepped through the group of trees that had blocked his view from Akira.

He stopped, looking around. The Library was deserted, and the lights were off inside. Up from there he saw a set of streetlamps; under the farthest one a circle of boys were jeering and yelling slurred words. Hikaru started towards them uncertainly. He felt tense, hoping Akira was simply in the Library, and he was overreacting.

As he came closer to the group, their words became unmistakable. Hikaru hissed, jogging towards the group. At the same time the boy closest to him fell. Akira wiggled over him, a line of blood running down his chin. The teen looked terrified; his focus so intensely honed on clawing his way away that he didn't see Hikaru. One teen from the circle grabbed Akira by the collar, ripping him backwards and turning around to punch him.

No one had seen Hikaru. Time seemed to slow; he saw Akira's attacker's arm cocking back, and on instinct lurched forward to grab it.

Hikaru felt his hand encircle the teen's wrist, and with all his might he ripped the boy back, grunting with exertion. The larger male stumbled back with Hikaru's force, turning just in time to meet the blond-fringed teen's fist. He dropped in a second; falling on top of the boy Akira had tripped.

The entire group stopped. Akira stood in the middle, chest heaving. Shocked emeralds slid up Hikaru's face, meeting his eyes and staring.

Time sped back to normal.

Akira ran forward; Hikaru grabbed him by the wrist and slid the boy behind him. "What the fuck?" he roared, eyes shooting daggers at the two teens who remained standing in the group. He stepped forward, but the boy stepped away uncertainly. "What is wrong with you guys? Touya never did anything to you!" They looked back and forth at each other, before pointing at Akira.

"He shouldn't exist! It's disgus-"

"Shut up!" Hikaru roared, "you're disgusting!" He stepped forward, grabbing one teen by the shirt and glaring into his eyes, "People like you are the scum of the earth!"

He dropped the shirt, shoving him backward into his friend. The two boys backed away, before turning around and running away. Hikaru stared after them, breathing heavily. The boys on the ground had apparently crawled away at some point; Akira looked in the direction they weren't hesitantly, before turning towards Hikaru. The larger boy was a silhouette under the streetlamp, and Akira felt flighty thinking about it. "Thank you," he said awkwardly, dabbing at the blood on his chin. He must have scrapped it.

"I should take you to the nurse," Hikaru said, pulling Akira's arm over his shoulder.

The smaller boy shrugged away. "Please, no. Just… just take me back to the dorm. I don't want to be outside anymore. I want to go to bed." Hikaru started to resist, but a sullen look from Akira stopped him.

"Alright," he murmured, wetting his lips.

The two walked back to their dorm slowly, not bothering with small talk. Somewhere along the way Hikaru noticed Akira shaking. "Listen," he started, looking at his roommate, "I'm-"

"Thank you," Akira said again, looking up at Hikaru. The larger of the two noticed a trail of liquid rolling down his roommate's cheek. He stopped walking, staring blankly. "Thank you so much."

Hikaru heaved a sigh, scared by how shaken Akira was. He didn't know what to say. Instead, the teen reached out awkwardly, pulling the dark haired boy into a one-armed hug. Akira stiffened, before melting into Hikaru's side. He sighed.

Maybe Hikaru really wasn't that bad, after all.

oOo

_Acta est Fabula_

_oOo  
_

**A/N:** GOD THAT TOOK FOREVER. I hope you enjoyed. On a side note, It's 2:44 AM and I am watching Family Guy. My eyes hurt. Haha. Sorry this chapter sucks. I forced it out, and that always takes its toll. :(

Please review! If you have any questions, let me know.

"_What's this?_

_What's this?_

_There's something on my door!_

_What's this?_

_What's this?_

_It's Touya as a whore!_" -What I wanted Sai to sing when he asked Akira about the flier. Too bad I couldn't fit it in.


	3. Spontaneous Human Combustion

**Title: **Uneasy Coexistence

**Description: **In which the sexually repressed gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college.

**Paring(s):** Shindou Hikaru / Touya Akira

**Comment Notes: **Repeat offenders Ichigo1010, Hispanic Tenshi, & BrokenPsychopath = love. At "kei" and Suzanne134 – straight Hikaru it total win. I don't like when people start out gay. IT PROVIDES NO ROOM FOR CHANGE. And for those of you who don't have an account but still comment, I love you too. :D

**Author's Notes: **I didn't think I'd manage to motivate to write this chapter, because I'm lazy and since I've already written the whole plot writing it is so much work. BUT I WILL PERSEVERE. Alone I walk the winding way.

Someone should draw me some Hikaru/Akira. There is not enough.

* * *

Chapter 3

_Spontaneous Human Combustion_

_

* * *

_

Akira sighed for the umpteenth time, shrugging his sleeve back to check the watch adorning his wrist; he'd been waiting in the library over thirty minutes for stinking Hikaru, and the nuisance was still a no-show. The teen was only here as a favor, because his roommate had been begging him for _days_ to tutor him in English. Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, Akira had felt at the time he owed Hikaru. For saving him.

The dark-haired boy cringed at the idea of being 'saved'. He was not a woman, nor a damsel in distress. If they hadn't had the jump on him..

Well. It was a group of four homophobes. They probably still would have beaten the living hell out of him, and if Hikaru hadn't shown up… he didn't want to think about that.

Emerald orbs gravitating towards his watch again, Akira wet his lips. It'd been two weeks, but he could still feel the ghost of a pink blemish on the side of his mouth from being punched. He could remember the pain, the fear. Because of it he'd been avoiding the library, and after all this time he was still antsy being here alone. "Dammit, Hikaru. Where are you?" the male muttered to himself, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and worrying it; he wondered deftly if the skin would split down his scar.

With a pang, Akira stopped. He felt self-destructive; ever since the attack he'd been picking and scratching at all of his wounds, as if the metallic blood seeping from them would get rid of his feelings about it. Surely they would scar at this rate. Then they would serve as reminders of.. weakness.

Akira shook his head slowly, wanting to banish the dark thoughts the library seemed to plant in his head. If he was honest with himself, most places made him think like this. In fact, it wasn't the location… it was him. Only distractions kept him from being a pile of nineteen-year-old gay angsty mush.

Luckily for Akira, he had one of the best distractions in the world. For a roommate.

He and Hikaru had been overwhelmingly close since the incident. Hikaru was like a bodyguard and a good friend; it was as if he understood Akira was in a dark place, and effortlessly kept him happy with conversation and jokes. They always seemed to be together now. Akira had fought it at first, not wanting the taller boy's pity… but it didn't take him long to succumb to Hikaru's endless smiles.

Unluckily for Akira, his new best-buddy was nowhere to be seen.

Swiping the straight hairs of his fringe behind an ear, Akira stood from his seat and slowly began gathering his things. They were friends, but they were not wait-almost-an-hour friends. The boy moved slowly though, eyes trained on the door, waiting for Hikaru to burst through in his attention-grabbing way; to become the center of the room.

He didn't.

Akira slid his English book into his backpack and gave up, slinging it over his shoulder and starting slowly for the door. Maybe if he moved slowly enough Hikaru would appear. He really didn't want to leave and then Hikaru show up, only to be alone. _Wait, what?_ Akira stopped, surprised at his thoughts. _I don't give a shit if he shows up and I'm not here. He deserves it! He's the one who left me alone..!_

Nodding resolutely, the dark-haired teen moved swiftly to the door, waved half-heartedly at the librarian, and stepped outside into the late-August heat. He immediately raised a hand over his eyes to block out the sun; it was around three, and the rays cascading through the trees brought the last warmth of the day to Akira's skin. The boy smiled beside himself, mood lifting slightly with the temperature. Though it clashed with his cold personality, he truly preferred the warm outdoors to cold libraries or classrooms.

Adjusting his backpack, Akira started towards the dorm. He felt tense on this walkway; there were no people, but still..

This was where it had happened. Just twenty feet away.

Akira moved stiffly, eyes trained on the streetlamp looming ahead in the sky. It was like a marker. He slowed, eyes sliding against their will to the ground. Stopping in place, the teen gulped. A red smudge marred the concrete, only the size of a gumball, but large enough to catch his attention and twist his guts into a thousand pieces. Blood? He blood? From then?

He tried to resist, but found the toe of his shoe inching towards the mess. Touching it softly, the teen sighed. The way his sole moved over it made it obvious the spot was a drop of paint… but still. After his attack, he wondered if his blood _had_ decorated the ground. Nostrils flaring, Akira was torn from reality and brought back to that time. He felt a frog in his throat, remembering hitting the ground and clawing over one of the boys… remembering how Hikaru had been there.

It felt strange to want to cry at something that should be so inconsequential. Hikaru's hair had been a mess. He's been sweating, chest heaving, obviously having run to his aid. Like a white-knight, a savior. It made Akira sick with gratitude. He did not like the way things had gone that night.

The teen was still engrossed in Hikaru's glowing eyes from that night, still lost in the melodious echo of the boy's heated words, when the sound of shoe sole's snapping against the ground reached Akira's consciousness. He perked up, before his stomach twisted and his throat filled with bile. _Not again, please not again_.

Strong arms wrapped around Akira's middle, and suddenly his feet left the ground and gravity released its hold on him. He could smell the acrid scent of cheap factory soap with a twinge of honey shampoo… his shampoo.

Somewhere between relief and recognition, Akira found the time to be pissed off that Hikaru was _still_ using his goddamn shampoo. He'd been dyed PINK for it! How do you teach a guy like that a lesson?

Akira's feet splayed in the air, and his eyes crossed as Hikaru twirled him 'round and 'round. He clamped his fingers over the larger male's hands tightly, feeling tiny when pressed against his roommate like this. "What are you doing?" he finally managed, voice sounding forced. "Let me down!"

Hikaru ignored him, laughing joyously while spinning. Akira felt like a ragdoll; like he was completely defenseless. He waved his feet, and after a moment, he began to secretly find the lack of grounding fun. The teen smiled, dark hair flying out every-which-way while childish giggles leaked from his throat. "Hi-kar-u!" He yelled, enunciating each part of the name, "Let me down!"

Finally his roommate complied, and Akira's feet touched the concrete softly. He wavered, turned, and came face-to-face with a beaming Hikaru. The larger boy put his hands on Akira's shoulders to steady him, but after a moment the teen shrugged away. "God, what was that for?" he complained, trying to pat down his unruly hair. "Are you trying to give me a heart-attack, or just practicing to be a rapist?" Akira immediately fell into his usual demeanor around Hikaru; full of sharp remarks and quick comebacks.

"Totally," The taller of the two grinned lopsidedly, "I disorient my victims by twirling them, and then I have my dirty dirty way with 'em." Hikaru was always swift in response, and it made his roommate smile in return.

"…Chilling," Akira commented, pulling at the straps of his backpack. "But really, don't do that. Have you never heard of personal space?"

Without thinking the two fell into step, starting back towards the library. Akira didn't try to guilt his friend about being late… part of him was just happy he had come at all. As for Hikaru, he simply threw an arm over the smaller boy's shoulders and let his head lull back towards the sky. "What's that? Some kind of shampoo?"

That one stumped Akira. He gaped, and then shook his head. "You make no sense sometimes, you know that?"

Hikaru retracted his hand, using it to flip his fringe. "In Hikaru-land I do," as if that explained everything.

"I'm glad I don't live there."

"You'd like it. There are cotton-candy clouds and naked women everywhere," Hikaru paused thoughtfully, holding open the door to the library. Cool conditioned air washed over the duo, and Akira crossed under Hikaru's arm. "Well," the blond-fringed teen continued, "I guess you wouldn't like it too much."

Akira simply shook his head. "Nice," he murmured, wandering back towards the table he'd been posted at earlier and feeling in much higher spirits. Part of him hated how easy it was to fall into stupid conversations with Hikaru, and how he enjoyed the other boy's company. The teen plopped into his chair, watching his roommate slide across from him with grace no one over six feet in height should possess. Akira's eyes lingered for a moment too long, and Hikaru looked uncomfortable at it. The boy adjusted the collar of his loose fitting tee-shirt, before leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the table.

"S'nice in here," he wondered, crossing his arms behind his head.

Akira looked alarmed, sneaking a glance at the librarian. It was another student, one who probably wouldn't care, but still he found himself chastising his roommate; "Don't do that! It's rude."

"Blah-blah," Hikaru sneered, dropping his feet and looking serious. "Now what? I have an essay due next week. It's supposed to be completely in English."

Standing, Akira set his backpack on the table and made to move away. "Hey, hey, where're you going?" Hikaru asked after him, looking like a child lost in a grocery store.

"…To get an English Dictionary?" Akira spoke slowly, pointedly, to make his friend feel dense. He made his way into a row of high wooden shelves, with Hikaru trailing after him. _Why does he have to follow me everywhere?_ The small boy wondered, eyes scanning over the books and ignoring his 'shadow'.

Hikaru was feeling chatty. "I thought you were fluent," he mused, also looking around, but less for the book and more for entertainment. "You seem smart like that."

Dryly, Akira replied. "I guess I'm not."

He skimmed further down the section, until at the top of one of the shelves he caught sight of a Japanese-to-English dictionary. Akira immediately went for it, stopping in front of the case and stretching off of his heels to grab it. He couldn't quite reach, and leaned his body against the bookcase in his effort. It was just out of his reach… attainable, probably. "Damn things," the teen found himself muttering, lithe muscles shaking with strain. His fingers just barely brushed the base of the book, and then suddenly it was gone.

At the same time the book disappeared Akira became aware of a solid heat at his back. He instantly went rigid; Hikaru was flush against him for all of two seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Akira. _What…?_ He wondered, feeling almost hazy. In his peripherals the boy could see one of Hikaru's hands braced against the case next to his shoulder. Finally his friend's body pulled away; he dropped back to his heels and turned around slowly.

Hikaru still stood close, smiling proudly and flipping the dictionary over and over in his hands. He was too close for comfort. Akira could smell him, that pungent soapy _clean_ smell, and it made him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to people radiating such heat, or looking so happy. Things felt like they were in slow motion; Hikaru continued to flip the book, almost gleaming in the harsh lighting of the library.

Feeling out of breath, Akira snatched the book away from Hikaru and leaned back against the shelf. He was trying to escape that overwhelming heat; he sucked in air harshly, tasting Hikaru all over it. "You're too close," the boy said weakly; he'd meant to curse him for mistreating the book, but somehow those words had spilled out instead.

As if being splashed with cold water, Hikaru immediately jerked away. "I'm- uh- wh-… This is…" He scratched the back of his head, looking confused.

Akira followed the movement, watching how the hem of his roommate's shirt shifted to reveal a small expanse of tan skin around his middle hungrily. "Awkward," he said automatically, tearing his eyes away unsurely. _What is wrong with me?_

"Yeah," Hikaru said, melting into a familiar grin. He dropped his arm, and with the disappearing skin went Akira's trouble breathing. Suddenly the taller of the two looked serious, a face that didn't suit him. "Are you uncomfortable because of those guys…?" he asked, looking almost sullen. As if he couldn't fathom any other reason for the reaction.

Hikaru seemed to have a selective memory to Akira. The teen knew his roommate was gay, and yet had no problem pretending to flirt with him or touching him… like he had no idea. Like he was completely ignorant of the fact that he was an attractive _male_, and Akira was _gay_ and thought attractive _males_ were indeed _attractive_.

And having Hikaru close to him, helping him, pressing against him… of course it would make any boy who swung that way uncomfortable! Whether they liked him or not..!

_Definitely not_, Akira thought, sneering.

When the dark-haired boy didn't answer, Hikaru pushed on. "I won't hurt you…" he said, sounding as if he was cooing to a skittish animal.

"Jesus, I'm not scared of you. I just don't like you pushing me and standing so close!" Akira huffed, looking off to the side and feeling cornered; he was still flattened against the shelf. "I told you I like my personal space. 'Didn't realize you actually don't know what that means."

Hikaru looked somewhat tender, both hands raised in a placating way. "Sorry, sorry," he spoke, voice low and masculine. Akira felt a pang at it, his lower stomach tightening. He wasn't going to acknowledge this situation anymore. Resolutely, the boy pushed himself off of the shelf and slipped past Hikaru, thin arm sliding against the other boy's. He was breathing heavily, and he hoped Hikaru didn't notice. That entire moment had just been much too weird.

Akira closed his eyes as he walked, deftly aware of Hikaru's footsteps behind him. He calmed himself, unconscious of how his knuckles had gone white around the book.

By the time they both silently slid into place at the table Akira was feeling normal. He dismissed those few minutes of painful tension as hormones, and instead turned all of his attention to the task at hand. "So, what's the essay over?"

"War and economy," Hikaru said; the blond-fringed teen had produced a notebook and pencil, the latter of which was clamped distractedly between his teeth. Akira noticed the way the wood slid against his friend's lower lip, but only for a moment. He nodded, setting the dictionary between them and grabbing the English book from his backpack.

They discussed what the essay would be about, and after that time Akira moved to sit next to Hikaru and help him by pointing out things in the textbook or dictionary. The feelings from before completely dissipated, leaving both boys comfortable in each other's presence. Akira was laughing, listening to puns Hikaru made about the translations. "ichi - ni – san!" they sang in unison, probably appearing to all around as drunken idiots.

Hikaru laughed for a full two minutes, before sobering and pointing to a paragraph in the textbook. "It's written in English, I can't read it," he frowned, looking to Akira with large, pleading eyes. The smaller boy rolled his eyes, craning his neck to squint at the book.

"My eye-sight sucks," he complained, crawling up onto his knees in the chair and leaning over Hikaru to get a better look. One hand braced on his roommate's broad shoulder, Akira glared at the page. "It's just an example sentence. It says.." he paused, leaning back in his chair and checking the dictionary, "'Love is War – an English proverb.'"

Akira kept his feet in the chair, reading through the dictionary distractedly. Hikaru stared, looking from the dictionary to his book, at the confusing English characters he had never been able to understand. "Akira," the teen whined, flipping the page, "I need the dictionary."

When the dark-haired boy didn't reply Hikaru repeated himself, gaining no response. He huffed, about to shove Akira's shoulder, when a figure appeared behind Akira's chair. Hikaru stopped, looking up; he recognized it to be Akira's go-partner… Tsutsui? Whatever his name was. Either way, the male adjusted his glasses and assessed the situation, before bringing a finger to his lips and indicating Hikaru should stay silent. Then, Tsutsui braced his hands on the back of Akira's chair and leaned forward, his face coming down next to the smaller boy's. Hikaru watched in interest, surprised Akira hadn't noticed the presence.

Tsutsui winked in Hikaru's direction, and the teen watched in shock as the boy's mouth opened and he blew softly into Akira's ear. The male in question jerked, but not before Hikaru saw a flash of pink dart from Tsutsui's lips and slide up the shell of Akira's ear. He watched with wide eyes, suddenly feeling immensely uncomfortable. Akira did not flaunt his sexuality; he didn't even talk about it. Sometimes Hikaru forgot. _Is this his boyfriend?_ He wondered.

At the same time Akira flailed away, first looking in complete and utter shock towards Hikaru, as if he thought his roommate had done it. He was flushed red, but realized quickly the body next to him was not Hikaru. "….Tsutsui-san…" he breathed, sounding not exactly relieved, but more understanding.

"Sorry," the teen cooed, tilting his head so that black strands of hair fell into his glasses, "Touya-kun was so focused he didn't hear Shindou-san calling him. I couldn't resist playing with you." He pulled out a chair, planting himself between the roommates. "What are you guys doing?"

Hikaru was still staring dumbly, and Akira had to be the one to cover for him. "I am helping Shindou with his English essay. What are _you_ doing here?" Akira added mentally, _so rudely interrupting_..? He wanted to huff.

"Dropping my books off."

Tsutsui didn't appear to plan on leaving. He smiled politely at Hikaru, and Akira glowered on the inside. He liked his go-partner, and it was true that they had grown closer over time… but part of him was unhappy. Tsutsui was keeping them from studying, he rationalized. He wouldn't admit a small piece of him had been enjoying his time alone with Hikaru. It wasn't like a crush, or something silly. Hikaru was a friend, but he was usually busy with other people. While they were together often, they were not alone. Not like this. The library had previously been completely empty, and their snide chatter had lifted his spirits immensely.

Akira resigned himself to Tsutsui's presence. By the time he returned to reality his friend was leaning over his roommate and talking in perfect English. Hikaru looked flushed, pencil whipping down the page hurriedly. He couldn't seem to keep up, and looked awkward with Tsutsui looming over him, dictating his actions.

What a useless feeling. Akira leaned back, popping the tip of his thumb into his mouth and watching the two work. Even he couldn't keep up with Tsutsui's English. Was he inferior? The boy briefly entertained thoughts of grabbing his backpack and walking out without a word… he wondered how his friends would react to that. _I'm being childish_, he thought sourly. Inside, he still hoped if that happened, someone would chase after him and insist he help.

Hikaru looked up from his furious scribbling, amber eyes sliding over Akira's bored features. Tsutsui had stopped rambling, instead looking silently through his English book with furrowed brows. "Akira," Hikaru called, breaking the smaller teen from his fantasies, "what do you think of the paper?"

He was trying to include the boy. Noble, but Akira always hated being pitied. "I'm sure it's great. Tsutsui-san is very intelligent."

"Will you read over it?"

Akira wanted to sigh pointedly. Why couldn't Hikaru just leave him to his self-pity? He snatched the notebook, balancing it delicately and glaring over the words. Not that he really understood it. English was such a bother. So complicated. When he was younger he'd had some talent for it, but never planned on leaving Japan and didn't see the point in pursuing. Rather than break out the dictionary and actually attempt to understand the essay, Akira simply read over the words the best he could and vaguely applied what meaning he could to them.

"It's good," he said blandly, dropping the notebook into Hikaru's lap.

Just as it landed a group of scantily clad girls burst through the doors to the library, looking around as if disoriented (Akira laughed inwardly, assuming a place like the library probably was unfamiliar) and squawking amongst themselves. They turned, caught sight of Hikaru, and rushed over. "Shindou-_kun_," one cried, elongating kun and pouting, "We've been looking _everywhere_ for you!" She looked distasteful to Akira – with bleached hair and fake blue contacts in.

Hikaru blinked up at her, before smiling easily. The girls all looked swoony at that, but to Akira it was almost comical. Like a joke. "Asumi-chan," he spoke smoothly, "What do you need?"

"It's the drama club," another girl interrupted, pushing her lips out. They were smeared with gloss, makeup heavy on her eyes. "We're having a car wash to raise money today, but the girls aren't good at it and people are complaining."

The third girl in the group – the one with dark hair and a natural face – interjected. "So we thought: 'Shindou is so manly and strong, surely he can help us!' – So can you? Please?"

"Girls, girls," Hikaru said, waving his hands calmingly, "You know I'm here for you." He stood, looking from Akira to Tsutsui smugly. "I literally just finished what I was doing here. And now I'm all yours, ladies."

Akira wanted to puke at how fake Hikaru sounded. He never talked like that around Akira, and the teen was glad of it. It was as if his roommate was a different person when other people came around… or maybe he was being another person with Akira. Either way, he preferred _his_ Hikaru.

Well, not HIS Hikaru.. but.. yeah. The other one.

Warm breath suddenly washed over Akira's ear. "Thanks for the help, _buddy_," Hikaru murmured, sending all kinds of sensations through the small boy's body. Feeling one fire, Akira turned in time to watch his roommate shake hands with Tsutsui before following the girl's from the library, leaving Akira and Tsutsui alone.

"Darn, they stole him from us Touya-kun," Tsutsui observed, plopping down in the chair next to Akira.

Now that he wasn't all over Hikaru, Akira found his friend much more appealing. He nodded absently, before shaking his head vigorously and looking almost alarmed. "Good riddance," he said quickly, looking away slyly.

Tsutsui wasn't buying it, of course. "You don't have to pretend to hate him, he isn't here. And Lord knows I know you don't. Who could? He's walking perfection."

"You know," Akira commented dryly, "It's weird having you saying stuff like that all the time. I have to live with him."

"I know. Lucky you."

The two sat there talking a while, before they did what two gay boys with similar interests and attractions would do together: they played a game of Go. And of course, considering this was reality and it followed the rules of the world, Akira won.

They laughed together, putting away the library's goban and packing up to leave, almost an hour having gone by. Akira grabbed his backpack from the chair Hikaru had been sitting in earlier, and found that when he pulled it out something fell from the chair onto the floor. Stooping down to pick the object up, Akira found within his palm a beaten brown leather wallet. He blinked, flipping it open and finding a small picture of Hikaru smiling back at him.

"Oh, I found Hikaru's wallet," he observed distantly, feeling Tsutsui's warmth saddle up next to him as the teen peered over his shoulder.

"Want to go together to give it back to him? I'd love another excuse to see that face again before going back to my dorm." Tsutsui almost sang in Akira's ear, and a small part of him lamented over why he found Hikaru's husky whispers so much more appealing.

He sighed, probably for the millionth time that day. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

* * *

Trailing after Tsutsui through the quad, Akira turned Hikaru's wallet over and over in his palms. Maybe saving his roommate from a penniless existence would earn him extra karma in the world, or at least a little bit of kissing up from Hikaru. The boy smiled, curiously flipping open the leather binding and examining his friend's school ID.

Of course it featured Hikaru, smiling crookedly, head tilted to the side and one eye closed in a flirty wink. Akira assumed the photographer had been a woman – judging from Hikaru's leer he was right.

Shaking his head in amusement, Akira let his fingers slip the card from its place, outlining the picture's frozen features with his eyes. His forefinger traced the contours of Hikaru's jawline; he wet his lips and looked up just in time to catch Tsutsui watching him with a bemused expression. "Touya-san… you claim to have no feelings for Shindou-kun, but I don't know," the taller boy slipped his spectacles up his nose, their glass catching the afternoon sun and blinding Akira. "You seem to me like a boy with a crush."

"You've sure gotten forward," Akira commented dryly, willing his cheeks to maintain their normal pallid shading. Tsutsui only shrugged, watching astutely as his friend slipped Hikaru's ID back into the wallet, which then went into his pocket. "Well," the boy continued, "I do find Shindou somewhat… aesthetically pleasing. But in no more a way than I can find a random stranger attractive."

Tsutsui waved a hand dismissively. "No need to explain. I for one would love to find Shindou in my bed."

"Too bad that will never happen," Akira touched the wallet in his pocket, speaking automatically. At his friend's glance he shrugged, explaining, "The guy's as straight as they come. Seriously, he has women all the time."

At some point during the conversation they had moved to walk side-by-side, and now Tsutsui could fully examine Akira. "I don't know. They say college is where everyone… _experiments_ a little. You know. I wouldn't mind being an experiment for him." The teen shifted his books, ignoring how Akira huffed and looked across the quad. They'd come within sight of a large gathering of students and cars, and could hear a dull roar coming from the area.

"I never want to be something like that," he side offhandedly, worrying his lip at the size of the crowd. Would he be able to easily find Hikaru in all of this?

Tsutsui looked on at Akira, and uncomfortably the boy continued. "I mean, I'm not saying I want to be in a relationship with Shindou. Or anyone. I'm speaking generally. I'd never want to be some dark stage in a guy's life where he didn't know who he was, and was just trying to use me to figure it out. If I was going to be with someone they'd have to already know themselves. Like I do."

Laughing, Tsutsui thread his arm casually through Akira's. While the smaller of the two was used to this, he'd never really been comfortable with the strange displays of affection gay boys around him seemed to enjoy. He just put up with it, finding complaining to be too much of a task. "So Touya-kun won't be sleeping with any straight boys?"

Blowing a raspberry, Akira shook his head. "Noo way."

"That's a shame," Tsutsui sounded coy, a devilish smile in place on his lips. "I've heard it's pretty awesome..!"

Faux surprise marring his face, Akira sputtered; "Tsutsui-san. What happened to the quiet and morally astute boy I met at the beginning of the year?" Part of him was genuinely curious – he wondered if this person was the real Tsutsui, so playful and forward.

"He went to college!" Tsutsui sang, winking before turning his attention to the large gathering of people they had come upon.

The two had made it to the student parking lot, and within it at least fifteen cars were parked; girls in short shirts and denim shorts all giggled, covered in suds and giving mediocre car washes. Akira and Tsutsui were confronted with two soaked girls manning a desk adorned with a 'CAR WASH - $20!' sign. "Hey guys!" one called, eyes traveling calculatingly over the two boys' entwined arms. She seemed to make peace with the fact quickly, obviously assuming they were a couple. Akira tensed his arm, sliding it away from Tsutsui under the pretense of waving at the girls. "Are you here for a carwash? Or a donation to the Drama Club?" the first girl asked, tucking waterlogged strands of blonde hair behind her ear and smiling genuinely.

"Um – actually, no…" Akira felt awkward addressing them. "My friend Shindou Hikaru left his wallet in the library, and I came by to give it to him."

The girls turned to each other unsurely; Akira feared for a moment they would ask him to leave the wallet with them. He didn't know why, but he felt after having walked all this way he deserved to at least have the satisfaction of giving Hikaru the wallet himself.

"Totally," the second girl, a brunette with large, hardly contained breasts, said. "Shindou is helping wash the cars…" she waved awkwardly over her shoulder, "You guys just go find him."

Akira started to walk around them; Tsutsui stopped at the desk, talking in an effeminate way with the females. "Touya-kun!" he called, and grudgingly Akira turned towards him. "I'm going to make a donation – I'll catch up..!"

Waving a hand dismissively over his shoulder, Akira wandered away from the desk and into the parking lot, working around soapy girls and parked cars. Loud music pounded against his ears – some kind of industrial rock he had never heard, and found somewhat distasteful. Akira was a man of classics; he loved a sole violin bleeding through the night. He felt more emotion from that than blaring guitars and screaming men.

Perturbed, and mind foggy from music, Akira surfed through the crowd, growing closer and closer to the source of sound. In the middle of the parking lot sat a single car – a sleek muscle car with the doors ajar on both sides, music spilling from its speakers. On the side closest to Akira someone was working, half their body inside the car and the other half outside; the worker's butt arched high in the air. It was a boy. He was shirtless, the tan expanse of his skin almost glittering in the afternoon sun while the muscles beneath it rippled with tension. A soiled rag hung from his pocket; an oiled hand reached back for it, and the boy leaned out of the car while wiping his hands on it.

Of course Akira was oogling this piece of manly-man, and of course that man turned around, and of course that man was Hikaru.

The world just really liked to fuck with Touya Akira.

He sputtered inwardly, watching as Hikaru wiped a line of sweat away from his clavicle and focused on Akira, before erupting into one of the most genuine and heart-shaking smiles that younger of the two had ever seen. "Akira!" Hikaru half-yelled, seeming surprised. "Come to help?"

A moment of silence followed that. Akira simply stared, because the sun was still cascading in beams around Hikaru, and such a striking image was something worth looking at. He caught himself, sniffing and wiping his nose awkwardly, "N..No."

Had it been stated that Hikaru was shirtless? Because he was very very shirtless right now, and though this was not a new sight to Akira, something want different about it. He lapsed back into silence, forgetting to blink. Hikaru's pants hung low on his hips – a line of boxer showed around his middle, and a light sprinkle of hair ran down from his bellybutton. He was well built, too. With his wide shoulders and the several creases in his stomach, Akira was reminded of some kind of Greek sex god.

_These are not healthy thoughts_, the teen reminded himself, emerald orbs hesitantly rising back to Hikaru's face.

His roommate had an eyebrow raised, and a definite leer smeared across his lips. "Then.. what are you here for, Touya-_chan_?"

Akira's stomach twisted into knots. "I came to give you your wallet, stupid. You forgot it." He took a deep breath, forcing his mind back into 'this-is-my-retard-roommate' mode.

"Oh. Thanks, man," Hikaru said, smiling crookedly and reaching out towards Akira. The boy reacted immediately, fishing the wallet from his pocket and sliding it into his friend's palm. Their fingers touched briefly, before Akira leaned away and started looking for his exit. Just then Tsutsui wandered up, eyes raking over Hikaru obviously.

The boy paused, playing with his glasses and smiling devilishly, "Well, hello again Shindou."

"Hey, Tsutsui. Thanks for the help earlier." Hikaru turned away from the two, rhythmically waxing the hood of the car. Akira could see lust radiating off of Tsutsui like heatwaves.

"No problem," the smooth-tongued teen cooed, leaning his hips forward slightly and hooking a finger in his waistband.

An awkward silence followed that, and Akira began to feel antsy. He turned to leave, when Hikaru's voice caught him mid-step. "Oh," he called, turning, rag dripping tendrils of wax down his arm. "I forgot. The girls invited me to a party tonight. You should come, Touya." He paused, before adding, "You can too, Tsutsui."

"Ah," Tsutsui sounded radiant, "That'd be grea-"

"I'm not going," Akira mumbled moodily. He didn't like large gatherings of people. Just being here was making him slightly uncomfortable.

Instead of staying and watching Tsutsui try to hit on his roommate more, Akira opted to turn and walk away. He just wasn't in the mood for it. Soon enough Tsutsui was at his side, complaining at the teen's sudden departure and about how he couldn't go to the party if Akira didn't. They left the parking lot as quickly as they had come, Akira's mind elsewhere the entire time.

"I must say, Shindou-kun is… well, _hot_."

Akira hesitated. "Yeah.."

Because, really, he kind of _was_.

* * *

The rest of the day sped by for Akira. He and Tsutsui parted ways at the dorm, and the teen spent his afternoon lost in a spread of books covering everything from Anatomy to Go kifus. Studying was soothing for Akira, and thusly he spent the remainder of his day doing it. He wanted to forget all the awkward attraction he seemed to feel out of nowhere for Hikaru.

Of course, thinking like that got the teen into an introspective mood, and he realized these attractions weren't so very sudden.

It wasn't exactly slow, but since Hikaru had saved him and tried to befriend him, he'd found the guy more attractive. Who wouldn't? Such a display of valor was like a potent aphrodisiac. And Hikaru was already hot in his own right – even without it being a crush, Akira could admit that. He just didn't want to, because his roommate was stupid and smiled too much and made too many jokes. And he was always getting on Akira's nerves.

Well, he was also always making him feel good, too. And he was funny, and nice.. and too caring for his own good.

Akira shook his head. _Counter-productive thoughts aren't helping_, he scolding himself, looking up from his Physiology textbook at the clock. He blanched. It was two in more morning, and he was still sprawled on the floor absently reading and occasionally letting his thoughts run away with Hikaru.

"Speaking of idiots…" he murmured, realizing it was two a.m. and Hikaru was still out, "What is that one doing?"

He wondered absently if Hikaru would bring a girl home tonight. In a strange way he sort of hoped for it. Maybe being forced to witness such vulgarity would break him from his obsessing.

But probably not.

Shaking his head as if it would send the thoughts away, Akira lumbered up from the floor and started towards his desk. He didn't know if he wanted another book or if he wanted to go to bed, but he was leaning heavily towards the latter of those two options. Part of him wanted to wait for Hikaru, but his roommate could stay out all night, and Akira simply couldn't stand to do that. Even if he didn't have class in the morning, it would take too much out of him.

He started for bed, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. He kicked off his shoes, and just as they slipped off he heard something loud slam against the door. Startled, Akira heart jumped in his chest and he turned to stare with saucer eyes.

Someone jostled the door-handle, and vague curses permeated the door. Finally there was a _click_, and Akira was assaulted with an image of Hikaru throwing the door open and stumbling against the frame. He was obviously drunk, awkwardly shoving his keycard into his pocket before trying to step forward and tripping, barely catching himself on the door.

Akira rushed to his roommate's side, smelling the pungent odor of alcohol clinging to his skin. Hikaru seemed jolly, clinging to the open door for balance and laughing uncontrollably. He hiccupped when Akira grabbed his arm, pulling it over his thin shoulder and leading the drunken oaf inside. The smaller of the two kicked the door shut behind them, looking worriedly at Hikaru's downcast face. "I can't believe you're so trashed," he huffed, struggling under his friend's surprising weight.

"S'pretty funny. Good night, man. Good night. There was a _really_ hot chick at the party…"

Rolling his eyes, Akira ignored Hikaru's perpetual straightness. The blond-fringed drunk continued to blabber on, words slurring disconnectedly.

"Hey, hey. I think I can stand," Hikaru sang his words melodiously, letting Akira prop him up against the wall. The teen was overwhelmed with giggles while looking down at his dark-haired friend. "You kind of look like a girl, Akira."

"Yeah – I've never heard that one before," the 'girly' teen replied sarcastically, wiping a few dark hairs from his eyes. He stared up at Hikaru, emerald eyes piercing in the dim light of their dorm. Hikaru watched him in return, swaying slightly in place. The honey color of the lamps mixed with moonlight from the window, created a soft hue in the room. "You should go to bed," Akira started to stay, but Hikaru slumped forward and dropping his head on the boy's shoulder.

The blond-fringed teen moaned. "Akir_a_," he called, drawing out the last syllable with a strange tone. Akira stiffened at it; he's stomach twisted slightly. Hikaru didn't usually sound like this. Was he going to be sick?

"What is it?" he asked, wanting to be the one to help Hikaru for once.

"It's just," the teen started, leaning back to look into Akira's eyes, "You really _do_ look like a girl."

Akira deadpanned, staring incredulously. "Yeah – you really need to go to bed."

He hauled Hikaru's arm over his shoulder again, intending to take the boy to the couch. They got halfway across the room, and then Hikaru refused to move anymore. Akira sighed, pulling his friend's arm to no avail. "Come on-"

Hikaru nimbly grabbed Akira's chin with his forefinger and thumb, staring with intent haziness at the boy's face. "Hika-" the smaller of the two started, but he couldn't force the rest of the name out. Hikaru was obviously delirious with drunkenness; he was starting to scare Akira.

"…Pretty…" Hikaru wondered, before smiling deftly and leaning forward, pressing his lips solidly against Akira's shocked ones. The boy went rigid, stomach quivering. This was not happening. Hikaru was not kissing him. This defied all forms of logic; his straight-as-a-parallel-line roommate was not doing this.

A tongue slid roughly against Akira's lower lip, and he realized Hikaru _was indeed_ doing this.

_What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?_

Of its own accord Akira's body responded. He felt Hikaru's large hands circle his waist and gasped, an opportunity the larger male took to slip his tongue into the boy's mouth. Akira tilted his head to the side, eyes sliding closed. He wrapped his arms around Hikaru's neck and pulled himself flush against him, cheeks burning red all the while.

_This is so wrong_… Akira thought, heat lacing all through his body. He wanted to stop; he didn't want to be taking advantage of Hikaru…

But really. How many opportunities like this were going to occur? Akira could be realistic. His roommate was _hot_, and this was _fantastic_.

No wonder Hikaru had so many women clamoring after him.

Speaking of Hikaru, Akira yelped. The blond-fringed teen snapped Akira's lower lip between his teeth, worrying it and then licking over the swollen skin. Large hands buried themselves into the boy's dark hair, pressing his mouth even more solidly into Hikaru's. Akira had never been kissed like this before. His whole body was on fire, tingling every place his roommate's hands went. He wanted to live in this moment forever.

Eyes rolling up, Akira let his wrists slide away from Hikaru's neck. A single large hand encircled his own, clamping it against his roommate's solid chest. Feeling adventurous, Akira let his own tongue swirl around Hikaru's, burying his free fist into the larger male's tee-shirt. He was getting light headed, still craning his body forward against his friend's.

He felt hot. His body was overheating; heart beating a thousand miles an hour and mind swirling with tumultuous winds of confusion.

At the same time Akira was calm; part of him accepted he had been longing for this. For touch, for sensation. For the feel of someone breathtaking pressed against his body, wanting him, desiring him... and to think it was with his Greek-god of a roommate.

Akira bit down roughly on Hikaru's lower lip, tugging it lightly and gnawing on the sensitive skin sensuously. The blond-fringed teen above him grunted in something akin to pain, mixed with mystified pleasure. He dropped Akira's hand, fingers traveling to the base of the boy's neck and pulling him up firmly. Hikaru's spare hand skid down the smaller male's neck, rubbing lavish circles with the pad of his thumb over Akira's clavicle. The boy couldn't suppress the seas of goosebumps that small movement send surging over his body.

"A-ah…"

Hikaru's hand ghosted over Akira's right pectoral, and the kiss was over as soon as it had begun. The larger of the two leaned back, looking blandly down at Akira's button-down. "Well, not _that_ girly," he said, hands falling away.

Without the help to stand Akira stumbled slightly back. Drool clung to the side of his mouth, and he wiped it away surreptitiously with his backhand. "What?" he asked, mind still hazy. He wanted to shake his head in confusion, but Hikaru simply laid a hand on the boys shoulder and started laughing, before moving shakily towards the couch and diving into it.

"You're not a woman," he clarified, words muffled by a pillow.

Akira stared after him, mouth flapping. He stammered a few times, trying to think of something to say, something that would prolong the moment. But soon enough Hikaru wasn't moving, and his breathing went from labored to even, humming. Frustrated, Akira did the only thing he could think to.

He walked away and went to bed.

* * *

The next morning Akira woke to the sounds of someone knocking on the door. Hoping they would leave the teen rolled onto his side and threw an arm over his eyes, attempting to block out the sun. A few moments of silence spanned, and then the knocking began again. "Go _away_," he hissed, shifting over on his stomach and burying his face in his pillow.

_Knock knock_

No such luck. Groaning, Akira counted to ten in his head before finally motivating himself to move. His bare feet brushed the cold linoleum floor, sending shivers through his body. With the cold came memories – Akira's eyes widened of their own accord, his head whipping towards the couch Hikaru slept on. His roommate was hidden behind the back of the couch, but had one foot hanging off the end, and a hand sprawled over the armrest.

Whoever was at the door knocked again. Hikaru did not respond, but the sound sent Akira stumbling out of the warmth of his bed. Cold, air-conditioned air washed over the boy's body; the night before he had gone to bed in his button-down and boxers, and now the shirt was half way opened, his left shoulder hanging out.

"I'm coming!" he yelled, squinting through the afternoon light that spewed from windows behind his bed and desk. Patting his hair down, Akira shuffled across the room and stopped in front of the door, staring dumbly at it in his post-sleep haze.

Finally, after glancing quickly at Hikaru's sleeping face, Akira opened the door and was confronted with a studious looking woman in her thirties, dressed in a chic business outfit with her silky dark hair in a tight bun and glasses low on her nose. Her eyes her dark and serious. A teacher? "Um…" Akira started, his charm not exactly vibrant after being so rudely awoken. "Hi… can I help you?"

The woman slid her glasses up, looking cold and calculating as she swept her eyes over Akira's disheveled form. "Hello, is Shindou Hikaru here?"

"He's asleep," Akira said instantly, feeling shy under the woman's eyes. "What do you need him for?"

Sighing and sticking her hand into the purse at her side, the woman removed a small lather badge and presented it to Akira. "My name is Takumi Ichirou; I'm Hikaru's probation officer. He didn't show up for his meeting today."

Feeling like he'd just been force-fed a brick, Akira numbly took the woman's badge and stared at it. _What? Probation? _He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Something like that… that was serious. Probation was for _criminals_. For bad people. Sure, Hikaru got trashed and made out with him, but he wasn't a _bad guy._ "Uh…" _What do I say to that?_ Akira really wanted to know _what_ Hikaru had done. He fidgeted, glancing over his shoulder at his friend. "He's… asleep."

"So you said." Curtly, Takumi plucked her badge from Akira's hands and put it in her purse, straining to see over the teen's shoulder. "As per the rules of Shindou-san's probation he cannot drink alcohol or test positive for any amphetamines or other illegal drugs. Has Shindou been drinking?"

"Of course not," Akira said, heart jumping into his throat. He shuffled in the doorway, trying to block the woman's view. "We were up late working on an English paper last night. He fell asleep like that. It's my fault, really."

Clucking her tongue, Takumi nodded. "Well, please wake him for me?"

Akira had never ingested alcohol before. He knew its effects, but didn't know how long it took before they wore off. What if he woke Hikaru, only to find the male still piss-drunk? And even if he was sober, he still smelled like a bottle of liquor. What would happen then? Would this woman take Hikaru to jail? A lump in his throat, Akira waved his hands in front of his chest and tried to formulate some kind of excuse. "I c-can't," he stammered, absolutely terrified of defying an officer. "Shindou… he has a presentation in a few hours, and it was light outside when he went to bed. We've worked so hard… I don't want to ruin everything by him being exhausted."

Takumi seemed unmoved. She glanced at her watch, sighed openly, and turned her bland eyes on Akira. "Fine. Tell him to phone me after his class. If he doesn't, I'll definitely be back."

Without a second glance the prim woman turned and stalked away, her heels clicking softly even in the carpeted hallway. Akira stared after her, his mouth open and flapping. Had that seriously worked? Maybe she had other students to attend to… He shook his head, shutting the door loudly and turning homicidal eyes towards his roommate.

Hikaru was on his back, his mouth open and soft snores coming from his chest. Blond and brown hairs were scattered over his face, falling into his eyes in a way Akira would not admit was attractive. He had one leg slung over the back of the couch, another toeing the floor, and his blanket was bunched up over his pelvis. The teen's shirt had ridden up, revealing a dark trail of hair that traveled up to his bellybutton and several indentions on his stomach indicative of a well-kept body. He mumbled softly in his dreams, and though he was the perfect image of sloppy college boy Akira felt no remorse when he pulled the pillow from under Hikaru's head and slammed it into the male's uncovered stomach.

"Wake up!" He yelled, heart slamming in his chest. He had just _lied_ to an officer! That's illegal! Akira slammed the pillow into Hikaru's middle a few more times, until the slumbering teen finally batted his hand at Akira's head. He ducked, again smacking his roommate.

Hikaru finally sat up, blinking groggily and glaring up at Akira in sleep-ridden disbelief. "I'm up, man. What the hell?"

Deadpanning, Akira let his jaws slide open. "What the hell? What the hell, he says. Hello, mister criminal sir, I just had to _lie to an officer of the law_ for you! And why? Because you're a criminal and I'm living with you and.. and…" Feeling lightheaded, Akira realized he was hyperventilating. He could hear his uneven breathing, "And you're a criminal! What did you do? Are you a killer!"

Blinking, Hikaru squinted up at Akira. "Woah," he mumbled, eyebrows raised as he tried to shake sleep off. "Woah. I'm not a criminal, okay?"

Akira laughed beside himself. "Not a criminal? Not-criminals don't have probation officers knocking on their doors at-" he glanced quickly at his watch, "_One in the afternoon_ on a Saturday..!"

At that Hikaru seemed to wake up. He looked around, quickly jumping off of the couch and shimming past Akira. "It's one? F_uck_." He started smoothing his shirt out, already at the door. Akira followed, still steaming. "Sorry roomie. I have a special lab today. Listen," He paused in the doorway, grinning his characteristic lopsided grin. "I'm sorry you had to meet the she-dragon. Don't worry about it, though. And…" he pulled at his fringe, "Thanks for covering for me. I'm not really supposed to… 'drink'." He made quotations around the word, as if it wasn't true. "And I was so trashed last night, I don't even remember anything."

The words sank in slowly, and Akira found another brick sinking into his stomach. "You.. don't remember… anything?" He was going to develop a permanent tick in his eye.

Hikaru laughed as if it were the craziest thing, shrugged, and waved before turning on his heel and walking out the door. He left Akira in his wake, feeling shaken. He stared with wide eyes, body tense with disbelief. _So it's like last night never even happened to him_. Akira propped his shoulder against the door, watching Hikaru's retreating form.

Unconsciously, his fingers traveled tenderly to his lips.

* * *

oOo

_Acta est Fabula_

oOo

* * *

**A/N:**

Did that take long enough?

PLEASE REVIEW. I'LL DO THAT THING IN BED YOU LIKE, IF YOU DOOO. ;D winkwink

Btw this is unbeta'd so just gooooo with it. Let me know of any mistakes you catch.


	4. Beware of Stampeding Elephants

**Title: **Uneasy Coexistence

**Description: **In which the sexually repressed gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college.

**Paring(s):** Shindou Hikaru / Touya Akira

**Comment Notes: **"Kira", InkWave, Suzanne134, lolligje: hehehe, does he remember the kiss? Nope. That would make things too easy for poor little Akira. Huhuhu. – flyingjade: NAIL ON THE HEAD. NAIL ON THE HEAD, MAN. Congrats to you . - & the usual shout-outs to BrokenPsychopath, blood-of-a-phoenix (lul when writing that I wrote 'monkey' at first. Same difference, amiright?), and "Luna". :)

**Author's Notes: **Chapter contains stuff someone somewhere won't like. Stuff like unintentional drug abuse, intentional drug abuse, of-age drinking, and Akira totally making out with someone who isn't Hikaru. For everyone else who thinks that stuff is awesome, welcome to chapter 4. It only took me a few days. Feel free to wet yourselves with adoration. But don't really. That'd be awkward.

* * *

Chapter 4

_Beware of Stampeding Elephants _

_

* * *

_

Akira was dreaming.

_Everything was hazy. A fog settled through the trees, muddy earth slopping below Akira's spotless bare feet. He watched his toes, noting with interest that they never sank into the dirt; floating instead over the watery substance like a deity. He lost interest. This place was a forest; dark and distorting - as if Akira was starring in a creepy movie. The boy blinked, and when he was again aware he was standing in a clearing. _

_Everything was blurry. Flowers waved around his knees, some lightly tapping against him. He could hear their whispers; "You need to save the princess…" _

"_Save the princess?" His lips didn't move. As he stood amongst the flowers a man appeared, the buzz of a lawnmower following him. Akira watched as the man began clearing away the flowers; they made no protest. _

_And then he was somewhere new again. He was not confused. Simply walking forward, the boy found himself standing on a dry pathway, trees vibrating at the edges of his vision. "Hello?" he called, reaching for a sword he hadn't known was at his side. The air grew ominous. "I'm here to save the princess..!" _

_A cart rolled through the middle of the road. Feeling as if this was important Akira approached it, and as he did he realized the cart was actually a great dragon. Hiding… in the form of a cart. He swiped at it, and easily shattered the rotten wood. Victory. His sword was suddenly gone, and he immediately forgot about it. Instead he watched the horizon. A figure was approaching, and the closer it got the harder it was to make out. _

_Who or whatever it was stood in front of Akira, and though it was only inches away it remained unfocused and confusing. "Are you the princess?" Akira asked, unsure. _

_The figure nodded, before leaning forward and pressing its face against the boy's. It was kissing him? Akira kissed back, because he did not want to be rude… _

_And then he realized the figure was Hikaru. The teen was still hazy and unclear, but somehow Akira just _knew_. _

_Hikaru leaned back. "Got you—" he sang, voice ricocheting around the trees. "Now come get me!" He turned and ran, great white wings sprouting from his back and lifting him into the sky. The boy began to disappear into the sun, and Akira felt panic run through his body. _

"_No – oh, please don't leave me!" he cried, running down the path. But… he could never catch Hikaru now. He couldn't chase him into the very sky. Akira slowed, sullen. And then, out of nowhere, his back erupted and he found himself flying after Hikaru into heaven. _

Akira awoke instantly. Something huge had jumped on him, crushing the boy's middle and leaving him gasping for breath. Everything was still muddled from his dream – he cried out, punching as forcefully as he could at whoever was on top of him. Too bad he was weak and disoriented; he tried to inhale, before yelling, "My ribs – god, get off of me I can't breathe!" He continued to shove, until finally the body above him gave way.

Of course it was Hikaru. He grinned slyly, and it took Akira a moment to realize his roommate had left the door open, sprinted across the room, and decided to wake him up with his full body weight. "Any particular reason you have to be a dumbfuck this early in the morning?" Akira asked sourly, partly because his dream had been good, and now it was fading away.

"Yes," Hikaru smiled, patting his kidney where Akira had been punching him. "Many reasons. One, because it's already noon and the weekend is almost over, so you need to get _up_. And two, because I have a special surprise for you." His grin grew bigger.

Akira simply huffed, rolling over. "I'm not getting up unless you tell me why you're on probation."

This gave Hikaru pause. He sighed, smile fading ever so slightly. Akira had found out about his roommate's run-in with the law the day before, and now every conversation they had he asked about it. He just wanted to know so badly, and Hikaru wanted equally not to tell him. He'd skirted around the topic, told blatant lies about it, and occasionally just wandered away when the smaller boy asked. "I already told you," he spoke from above Akira, pulling at the teen's shoulder, "I killed four men and a monkey. The monkey was an accident, though."

Exasperated, Akira turned and smacked the top of Hikaru's head. "No, you did _not_. This is important man, I need to know. We _live_ together. Did you rape someone?" Secretly, that's what Akira had been thinking. Because, well, Hikaru basically raped him. With his mouth. And maybe he had enjoyed it a bit, but damnit, the bastard forgot and now Akira was carrying it around like a massive secret. And it was killing him.

"I would never," Hikaru gasped, covering his mouth in faux shock.

_Yeah, right_, Akira thought blandly, dropping back onto his side and curling around his pillow. "Oh pillow," he said aloud, sounding introspective, "how you complete me. Never jumping on me and trying to break my ribs. Never lying to me. Never having been prosecuted. You are indeed the man for me… or, pillow. Whatever."

"You aren't fair, man."

Akira shrugged, nuzzling his pillow. "Neither are you. I deserve to know about it, we're friends."

He could feel the weight on his bed shifting as Hikaru stood up. Part of the boy sank at that – he had hoped to illicit some kind of emotional response. Not like that ever worked with Hikaru. "Since when do friends have to tell each other everything about themselves?" the larger male asked, sounding farther away. Akira heard the door click shut, and sat up to see if Hikaru had left in some kind of huff. Instead he found the teen leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, playing with a box of cigarettes.

"Since when do you smoke..?" he countered, feeling strange. He didn't want to answer Hikaru's question, because he heard the undertones loud and clear. Akira wasn't going to find out about his roommate's past, because they weren't that close. Even if a part of him had wanted to be – a part he was vehemently ignoring for the time being.

Hikaru fished a small white cigarette out of the box and slipped it into his mouth, holding it in place with ease only experience could learn; "Since forever. Look at _all_ this stuff you don't know about me. It's almost like we're strangers."

Akira swallowed. He didn't want to hear that.

"I'm going to go," Hikaru continued, pulling the handle on the door down and opening it slightly. Akira was reminded of his dreams, and suddenly felt panicked. Was this some kind of symbolism? Was their friendship walking out the door on Hikaru's heels?

He clinched his fists in the pools of covers around his knees. Akira wanted to say something, but his tongue suddenly felt fat and useless. A furrow formed between his brows, and he felt his lips forming a thin line. "Hey," he heard Hikaru call. The blond-fringed teen was standing in the hallway, holding the door open and looking slightly concerned. Probably a good sign. "I'll be right back – I don't care about the damn probation thing. And I still have a surprise for you."

Hikaru disappeared behind the closing door, leaving Akira in his sea of sheets. The boy stared after him until the door clicked shut, and then scrambled from his bed over to the armoire; he pulled out a pair of pleated pants and a plaid button-down, sliding into them with ease. He glanced into the mirror and was pleased – Akira always held his appearance in esteem, because he felt presentation was an important part of the impression he made on people.

He played around with his hair, scrunching his nose at the odd angles it had warped into. The teen managed to muss it down to resemble its usual pin-straightness, before reaching for a bottle of gel from the top of his dresser and lathering his hands sparsely with it. Once he'd worked the bit of product into his locks they hung like normal, framing his face.

Hikaru came back in, and with him wafted the smell of smoke. Akira coughed, turning around. "Oh, getting pretty for me?" his roommate called, immediately moving to stand directly in front of the smaller boy.

It made his heart beat faster. Things like that happened a lot when he was near Hikaru, and he wasn't going to pretend he didn't know why. _Damn body and its hormones and Hikaru's perpetual hotness_… Akira craned his head ever so slightly to look Hikaru in the eyes. "Not for you. I'm just pretty," he paused, an idea coming into play. "Like a _girl_?"

Akira waited for a reaction, but Hikaru didn't seem to be affected. He shrugged, "That's kind of gay, man."

Exasperated, the dark haired boy raised his hands in frustration, fists clenching and unclenching. "I'm kind of—you know what. No. We're not going there. You're retarded."

"You hurt my f_ee_lings," Hikaru pouted, pushing his lower lip out. "Actually, I'm glad we got on this subject, because I've been wanting to talk about it."

Akira leaned back, realizing his roommate had inched slightly closer. Not that he wasn't comfortable with it – he was too comfortable with it. Sure, Akira was attracted to Hikaru, but he didn't want it to get blown out of proportion. He didn't want to do something stupid and fall in love with someone who could never love him in any way more than being drunk and confused.

Straight boys were such a trial. _I will never be with one_, he thought, before remembering to speak aloud. "About me being gay?"

"No – well, yes, sort of. It's kind of awkward."

Akira's heart sped up even more. Did he remember? Did he want to talk about? He couldn't help but be slightly hopeful. If only because he wanted some kind of explanation. Did all drunk men carelessly toss their sexuality to the wind for a feminine looking boy? Because if so… hell, he needed to start drinking.

"What I'm saying is, I _know_ someone." Hikaru continued, catching Akira's attention. His stomach dropped fractionally, and he let go of the small hope Hikaru was just being shy and pretending not to remember the kiss. "Someone you might like."

This did not sound good.

"It's one of my friends, you see. He's pretty cool, and I think you guys would get along."

Akira blinked. "No. You are not setting me up."

"But-"

"No - not happening. Sorry. Not interested."

"Ak_ira_," Hikaru whined, stepping forward and doing his best to imitate a puppy. "Pl_ease_? For me?"

The smaller boy tried to scoot back unnoticed, but found his hips bumping into the desk behind him. At that Hikaru leered, looking like a predator that had cornered its prey. "No, and don't say my name so familiarly," Akira said again, deciding not to take the path of least resistance. Maybe he was shorter than his roommate, and maybe he was mildly effeminate; but he was still a man and he would hold his ground as such. He had no interest in romance at the moment – in fact, if he had his way he would just be asexual and not deal at all with either Hikaru's "mystery man" or Hikaru himself. He glared purposefully, before stepping easily around his friend and moving to the bed, taking his time to smooth the sheets and make it presentable. "What do I owe you, anyways?" he asked while doing so, enjoying the coolness of the bed. "You won't even tell me why you're a _criminal_, and yet you feel like I should trust you with my love-life?"

Akira fluffed his pillow, deftly aware that Hikaru had moved behind him. He could feel the larger male's eyes burning holes into his head, but he ignored it and set the pillow down with grace. As he was pulling the comforter up Hikaru spoke; "Would you do it if I told you my secret?"

At that the teen paused. For a moment he was still, and then he pulled the covers up completely and smoothed them. "Possibly – if you tell me beforehand."

"How can I trust that you won't just let me tell you and then skip out? I've already told my friend that we'd go out with him tonight, I can't risk you being a deadbeat."

Eye ticking, Akira turned around to face his roommate. Hikaru was towering directly over him, and with such little distance between them the boy had to crane his neck up to glare. At least he was angry enough not to find the position tense in any way. "I _am a trustworthy person_," he hissed, waves of static almost visibly flying between them. "I am not the one with a _criminal record_."

He paused, before adding, "And why did you tell him that – you should have known I wouldn't agree. Ass."

Hikaru raised his hands in a placating way, stepping back as if Akira had actually managed to intimidate him. "Hey now, hey now. I didn't mean to insinuate you aren't trustworthy…"

"Then tell me the big secret now, and I'll go with you tonight and put up with whatever obnoxious person _you_ think would suit me." Akira crossed his arms, toes tapping against the linoleum.

Hesitating, Hikaru stood straighter and narrowed his eyes. "No," he seemed to regrow his spine, "If you want to know you have to go tonight. That's the only way you're going to find out, because I'm not telling you until it's done. Why? Cause I said so." He nodded, feet spread wide and posture reading power. Akira simply stared at him, taken aback by the sudden display of dominance.

Fuck, it was kind of hot.

"Fine then," the smaller of the two breathed, turning away because he couldn't bear to look anymore. "I guess I won't find out."

"I guess you won't," Hikaru agreed, and Akira heard him move across the room to his bed/couch. He heard his friend plop down, but the boy still couldn't turn around. He was shaking slightly – so filled with anger and uncertainty that he couldn't even talk. "It's too bad, too," Hikaru mused, only making Akira tense more. "It's a good story. Probably give you all kinds of insights into my _eccentricities _and satisfy your endless _curiosity_."

There was that tick in his eye again. Akira took a shaky breath, knowing he had to stay strong. Suddenly a slight weight was on his shoulder, and he realized Hikaru had come back. His roommate breathed against his ear, sending all sorts of not-unpleasant sensations down Akira's spine; "You'd _love_ to know," he whispered, and he was right.

"G..get off of me, weirdo," he stuttered, turning around and pushing against Hikaru's chest. God, it was solid. And if he remember correctly, beneath that shirt it was quite perfect.

Suddenly Akira's thoughts consisted entirely of expletives. And maybe a few steamy memories from the night before.

_I am not thinking about this, I am not thinking about this_.. the boy sang a mantra over and over in his head, suddenly finding the floor to be the most interesting thing in the world. Above him, Hikaru was looking smug. He knew he'd won with flying colors – almost as if he knew what kind of affect he had on his small roommate. "So you're going to go, right?" He leaned forward, using his forefinger to lift Akira's chin. He was confronted with swimming emeralds.

"Fine, I don't care. I'll go. Just leave me alone about it." Akira held his sides protectively, feeling like he'd lost a major battle against both himself and Hikaru; "But you still have to tell me the secret."

Hikaru grinned, eyes turning to slits. "Of course, my friend."

"And who is this mystery man, anyways?"

"His name is Waya."

* * *

Yoshitaka Waya could have been Hikaru's twin. He was tall, matching the other boy's height almost to the centimeter, while his shoulders were wide and his extremities lanky. He was slightly more built than Akira's roommate, but both boys had slim waists and long, calloused fingers. While Hikaru had bleached bangs and amber eyes, Waya's mop was shorter; his hair hung higher on his neck and was messy, colored deep brown like chocolate – a color that spread to his eyes. His skin was a shade of olive, and his eyes slanted lightly to make him appear more oriental.

He wasn't bad to look at; his style was more refined than Hikaru's. Where his roommate would often wear a white wife-beater and some unbuttoned plaid shirt, Waya wore a nice polo and jeans that actually fit him – instead of Hikaru's perpetually falling waistline. When Akira first saw him, he actually thought something might come of their meeting.

And then he found out that Yoshitaka Waya really was Hikaru incarnate – except more vulgar, and into guys.

"You can call me by my first name," the older male was saying. Yes, though he was also a freshman in college, he had turned twenty several months ago. "I'm not really into formality – my old man kind of had that affect on me."

Akira was hardly listened. Hikaru had introduced them in front of the water-fountain in the quad, and the group had set out after a bit of tomfoolery between the two taller boys. Both boys had refused to tell Akira where they were going – only that they were taking the train into town to visit some 'special place' both of his companions seemed excited about.

That was where they were now, standing on a crowded train in the hot afternoon heading for a city Akira had nothing but disdain for. He didn't like going off campus, because Tokyo was busy and annoying, and the areas around Toyo were always teeming with wild college students he didn't care to mix with. And yet here he was, being dragged by two of those very students into the heart of 'college land' to very possibly be forced into situations he had no intention of involving himself in.

Sure, he had agreed to go with Hikaru and humor his new 'friend', but he did not have to be sporting about it. If they tried to get him to drink he would definitely deny them – Touya Akira did not let his mind be clouded by substances. He nodded to himself resolutely, leaning away from the armpit of a strange man standing near him on the train. Hikaru was directly in front of him, and Waya was behind, but pressed in on all sides were strangers – all sweaty and talking loudly.

The train lurched to a stop, and Akira stumped from the force. His face hit Hikaru's back, and then Waya landed against him and effectively sandwiched the boy between his companions. He wanted to cry from frustration, because he so seriously did not want to be in this situation. Waya hesitated for a moment before leaning away, a soft, "Sorry," permeating the crowd of train-riders and reaching Akira's ears. He only nodded back at the boy, before peeling his face from Hikaru's back and looking up at his friend. The taller male was leering, and his thoughts were plain as day. 'Bet you like Waya being pressed against you like that.'

And yeah, okay, a tiny little part of him did. But that same part liked being pressed against Hikaru, and both of those parts were overshadowed by the massive chunk of his mind that was pissed off he'd ever agreed to go on this excursion.

"Are we going to be there soon?" Akira asked the back of Hikaru's head, sounding like an impatient child on a long car trip. They had been on the train less than ten minutes, but it felt like hours and smelled like body odor. _Really_, the teen thought sourly, _for such a developed country, we need more cars._

Because seriously, fuck public transportation.

"We're getting off on Main Street – be patient, man," Hikaru seemed used to places like this. Maybe he came from a densely packed area, but Akira had been born in Tokyo and even _he_ wasn't used to it. Though he had always stayed in residential areas, almost never traveling to the bustling city.

Akira gripped the loop of leather that hung above his head, using it to steady himself so that he could glare around people out the window. He caught sight of a sign, and immediately punched Hikaru in the spine. "We're here you dumbass! Go, go, before the train leaves!"

Hikaru didn't have to make an effort to look out the window, considering he was taller than almost everyone on the train. He looked out the window, laughed, and then yelled at the top of his lungs, "Hold the train!" Waya shimmied past Akira, and the two oafs made and wall that easily broke through the mass of people in front of them. Akira followed, blinking curiously as people scattered and made an easily accessible pathway for him to walk in behind his two friends.

Well, apparently keeping the company of giants had its plus sides.

They made it off the train, Hikaru stepping off first and Waya behind him. Akira followed, and both of the boys held out their hands for him to take. He paused, squinting, and huffed. "I'm not a woman," he grumbled, stepping down on his own and sliding prissily past his companions. "Thank-you-very-much."

"Don't worry, he's totally a woman," Hikaru said to Waya, and it made the hair on Akira's neck stand up. Just as the thoughts from last night appeared he wiped them away, rolling his eyes and standing impatiently on the sidewalk. They had left one sea of people to join another; the street was bustling with many high school and college kids, all chattering and making their way to various establishments. The buildings around were modern in style, all flashing with neon lights and advertising their various activities or products.

Akira flipped a few strands of flat hair around his neck, "Hardly." He gestured around the area, arms wide, "So where are you guys dragging me to?"

The weight of an arm slid around his neck, and Akira turned to see Waya leaning on him. Forward, but not unexpected for a guy who went by his first name. Plus, Akira had to keep reminding himself this new person was gay, and probably savvy to all the strange displays of affection he'd never really engaged it. It was just - Waya was so like Hikaru it was hard to believe he was into guys. He leered and smirked just the same; it was confusing, to say the least. "It's still a secret," the boy said, his weight heavy on Akira's shoulders. "But we should go!" He unlaced his arm from the smaller boy's neck, before nodding to Hikaru.

"Alright," the blond-fringed teen said, a grin on his lips. He seemed generally pleased at Waya's reaction to Akira, and the made the boy frown. It wasn't that he didn't like Waya – sure, the guy was loud and brash, but so was Hikaru and they were usually good friends; it was just… something about the situation. He didn't know what.

The group started walking, somehow things working out so that Akira walking between his comically tall friends. They must have been a sight, Waya with his hands shoved in his pockets, Akira with his arms behind his back, and Hikaru lazily bracing the back of his head. They didn't really talk, at least not until a man painted metallic gray wandered by and tipped his tin hat for tips. Somehow the spurned conversation, at least between Hikaru and Waya. Akira simply listened, almost enjoying their nonsensical chatter.

And then the group came to a sudden halt, standing across the street from a huge flashing building with neon letters spelling out, 'RAVE' on the front. A line went half-way down the block, and Akira examined it with distaste. He was glad they weren't going ther-

"Good thing I'm friends with the bouncer," Hikaru said, pulling his hands from behind his head and fishing in his pocket. He produced a few yen, before looking between Waya and Akira. The latter of the two stepped back, hands waving in front of his chest

"No, no no no, I am not going in there," he said, glaring with wide eyes at his companions. Both boys looked at him and then at the club, which was pumping with music so loud Akira could hear it from across the street. "Anything-" he started, before he felt Waya's arm lace through his.

The male grinned, saying, "It's okay…" almost soothing. 'Almost' because a moment later Hikaru slid his arm through Akira's other, and both boys braced him hard. The boy immediately started struggling, before realizing they had easily lifted him off of his feet and were crossing the street.

"No! Stop! This is dangerous!" Akira cried, literally kicking his legs out and wiggling around. He could see oncoming traffic and gasped, wanting to scream. Then they were across the street, and the boys let Akira's feet down but continued to drag him. Nearby people stared, but no one intervened. Akira could feel the nice soles of his shoes scraping against the ground, and he called out for help, "Stop them! No_oo_!" He looked around, but got no response.

Neither Hikaru of Waya seemed to be moved. Behind his head Akira heard his roommate address the bouncer, "Hey Shinichi, what's up?"

"Nothin'," replied a gruff voice, and Akira heard the sound of a door opening. He craned his head to look over his shoulder, and stared the bouncer right in the face with pleading eyes. "He legal?" the man asked, staring oddly.

_Am I legal? What the hell!_

Hikaru just nodded, before he slipped a few bills into the man's hand and began again working with Waya to get inside. They dragged Akira past the bouncer, all the while he mumbled about "rape" and "complete bastards". Shinichi just laughed, before closing the door.

Inside it was loud; music grated against Akira's eardrums and made him worry they would burst. It was all industrial – a strange beating type of techno that Akira had never been interested in. And there were people everywhere; it was hot, and if they weren't dragging him Akira worried he might lose his friends.

Well, not friends. Abductors.

Lights flashed all around – everything was dark; the walls were painted black and so was the sparse furniture. The only lights came from machines places around the room which all pumped out bursts of neon pink and blue and green – even the people were colorful, or, at least the ones he could see. Some wandered by covered in glow-sticks, and others were painted with strange glow-in-the-dark makeup. One girl had glowing hair, and he didn't even want to know how she had managed that.

Finally the force on his arms lessened, and his companions dropped Akira. He turned around, ready to yell, and was instead assaulted with the most beautiful bar display he had ever seen. It was made of glass – all lined with neon fuses that pumped magical colors through it and illuminated the different drinks within. The stools all glowed as well; one was purple, and one pink, and the rest had people sitting in them, all visible from the light coming from the bar. The bartender wore black clothing with colorful designs flashing over it, and behind him glass shelves changed colors periodically.

"Okay, that," Akira said, pointing to the structure, "is pretty cool. But you both are still assholes and I hate you. Take me home."

He said it more because he had to say it, than he actually thought his wishes would be catered to. "Not happening," Hikaru said, sliding onto a stool and leaning back against the bar with his body facing outwards. "Don't worry, you'll like it here. This place is like gay-paradise."

Waya shook his head. "You can sound like such a dick, man," he said laughing, indicating to the other empty chair for Akira. The boy hesitated, before sliding into it and turning so he could see his friends. He didn't feel like holding it against them, because honestly that was just something he was used to it with Hikaru around. The taller boy was always dragging him around like a favored toy, trying to introduce him to things he 'thought' he would like.

He was usually wrong, but it was kind of endearing.

"Drinks!" Hikaru yelled, swiveling his stool around the face the bar. A woman was tending it, and she slithered up the moment the teen's attention left his friends.

"What can I get you boys?" her voice sounded like molten lava, and it spilled over the music into the boys' ears. Akira grimaced, unused to females so blatantly using sex appeal to sell things. It was another reason he avoided public places. Usually the people were less than scrupulous. The woman leaned over the bar, letting her cleavage be observed by the group. Hikaru seemed pretty please to observe away, but Waya and Akira immediately found each other more interesting.

Which was probably a sign he really was gay, because Akira didn't even like breasts but he could tell hers were a nice pair.

"Three shots milady," Hikaru could be heard over the music, which seemed to be duller at the bar than it was on the dance-floor. Akira wondered how that was, and starting thinking about the acoustics of the area. If it was on purpose, then a lot of thought had gone into this building, and suddenly he respected it more.

And then his brain actually decoded what Hikaru had just said, and the boy turned around in a flash. "No, two! I'm not drinking," Akira looked for the bartender, but she was already gone and three small glasses lined the bar. "Damnit, Hikaru," he breathed, jumping out of his stool. "No alcohol will be touching these lips tonight."

"Then what will be?" Waya asked, mostly because it was a perfect opportunity to.

Akira huffed. "Nothing. I'm here because I have to be."

Hikaru downed his shot, and slammed back Akira's after that. "Oh, stop being such a sourpuss. While you were zoned out I ordered you a coke," he sneered, "Just assuming I'd pay to get you drunk. Yeah right."

Fingers reaching for the last shot, Waya brought the bitter substance to his mouth and let it slide down. Akira watched, interested, as the lights in the club flashed and made the liquor appear to be a vibrant blue color. And then it was gone, and the small glass appeared to disappear in the darkness. Waya slammed it onto the bar, shaking his head and grinning. "More drink!" he yelled, lacing his arm over Hikaru's shoulder. Both boys began singing loudly about the wonders of alcohol, and Akira simply dropped his face into his hand.

Three consecutive shots later, Akira was sober and his friends were slurring slightly and talking about how awesome sex was. They seemed to agree it was pretty wonderful, and when they searched for Akira's opinion about it he simply stated he 'wouldn't know'. That's when a small woman covered in glowing paint approached Hikaru, and a moment later he disappeared into the dance-floor.

"Well, here we are," Waya called, and Akira found him hard to understand now that a new, louder, more invasive beat had begun vibrating through the club. "What do we do?"

"What?" Akira half-yelled, leaning close so Waya would speak into his ear.

"Want to dance?" the other boy asked, words almost rhythmic.

Akira leaned back. "Oh, no, I can't dance. Especially not like _that_," he said, gesturing to the grinding, jumping, glow-stick waving masses gathered outside of the bar area. Neon lights flashed around the crowd, and for a moment Akira saw Hikaru with a girl's bottom pressed firmly into his crotch, dancing in a way that made Akira's stomach drop. "I need to pee, anyways," he lamented, handing his drink to Waya. "Make sure this is okay," he called, before wandering away to the bathroom.

When he came back he was thirsty again, mainly because the club was so dank with people their body-heat made the place an inferno. Waya handed him his drink, and the teen downed the rest of it. It tasted more watery – like the ice and melted. But at the same time, there was a trace of tartness. He waved it off as the taste of coke, and set the empty glass on the bar. Akira leaned against it, regarding Waya with interested eyes.

He couldn't help but notice how interesting the flashing lights made everything seem. And the bar was still so striking. Akira ran his finger down the ledge, and looking up to find Waya smiling at him. "What?" he asked, finding his stomach filled with butterflies. What was that about?

"Nothing, nothing. You're just really cute in this setting," Waya said, and it suddenly seemed very easy to hear him. Akira's stomach fluttered more, and his heart sped up. He was having quite the reaction to the older boy's words. "I mean, you seem so studious. Like you wouldn't be here. I like that."

Akira laughed more than was necessary at that. "I wouldn't be!" he yelled, stepping away from the bar to stand next to Waya. He braced a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm usually stiff. But this is kind of fun… don't tell Hikaru I said that!"

He was feeling bubbly. Why was this place suddenly so fun? He felt the beat of the electronica moving through his body, and he bobbed his head to it. His eyes darted uncontrollably, trying to following the waving lights. "It's so pretty!" he suddenly yelled, pulling Waya's shoulder. "and your shirt… feels nice."

Woah, shirt feels nice? Akira furrowed his eyebrows, unsure why that had come out of his mouth. Not that it wasn't true. He ran his hand unknowingly down Waya's chest, and marveled at house soft the material was. He had to have a thousand shirts just like this, and not one of them was so soft. "Why is your short so soft?" Akira half-yelled, leaning forward as if it was urgent. Waya only smiled, delicately removing Akira's hand from his pectoral.

"Fabric softener. Well, you seem to have relaxed, kid."

Kid? "I'm not a kid," Akira wined, pushing his lower lip out and seeming unintentionally childish. "I'm a very big boy."

Waya laughed. "I'm sure you are. Let's dance."

And suddenly that wasn't such a bad idea.

Akira let himself be led into the mass of people gyrating on the dance-floor, and now he found their presence fantastic. Something about so many people gathered together, moving like a sea, or a single organism, it was beautiful. "This is wonderful," he murmured, feeling Waya's hand on his shoulder. He leaned against it, and suddenly the taller boy whipped him around and lifted his arms, running his hands down Akira's sides. The teen sighed and that, really, really liking it. It felt nice to be touched. Like when Hikaru had touched him.

Suddenly the beat of the evening seemed to pick up. Akira was dancing, and he didn't know how such a thing was possible. The music simply filled him – it's incessant beat making his body jump and slide and grind; at one point he turned his back to Waya and purposely slid down the boy's front, grabbing his ankles lightly before springing up and going right back to bouncing around the dance-floor.

Then Waya wasn't the only person he was dancing with. An unknown girl joined in, and Akira twirled her and laughed, before feeling hands on his hips pulling him into the air. He caught a glimpse of blond-fringe in the pulsating lights, and giggled hysterically as Hikaru swung him through the air like a doll. "Enjoying yourself?" his friend called over the music, but Akira ignored him. He was too busy loving how Hikaru's hands had sunk lower that necessary on his hips. "You sure seem to be," he said when Akira was set on the floor. The boy didn't catch the knowing look his roommate sent Waya, instead immediately finding another body to sway with.

When had he ever felt this good?

He wanted to find Hikaru and thank him suddenly, but even though he'd just seen him.. he was gone? Akira turned, and found his friend standing with Waya, both of them have just popped something into their mouths. "What are you two _doing_?" he called, laughing, because they had done it at the same time, and that was just crazy!

"You're silly," Waya called, pulling Akira close to him by the sleeve. The boy could feel the music bubbling inside of him again. He looked around the club, and realized he couldn't see anything except the glowing lights. It's like all of his vision came in bursts.

Even Waya was hard to make out. And Hikaru was gone again, grinding away with another girl. Akira suddenly found this unfair, because he wanted to dance with his roommate. But he settled for Waya, letting the older male's large hands ride low on his hips in a way that felt amazing. He ground to the music, dropping his head back and feeling sweat run down his neck. "God, it's so hot in here!" he yelled, confused, suddenly finding it a wonderful idea to grip the collar of his button-down and rip the entire shirt open. He wasn't wearing an undershirt, but didn't feel embarrassed. The air felt great.

"What have you done?" Waya cooed, running a tingling finger down Akira's chest.

The teen turned and pressed his body flush against the other boy's, enjoying the heat radiating off of his body and the softness of his shirt. "You're just jealous that you can't!" he said, before pulling Waya's hands around his waist to rest on his butt.

That felt nice.

The two moved in rhythm, and as time went on it seemed to become slower. The whole crowd had become a single unit to Akira, rising and falling like the sea. He occasionally got the impression he was screaming joyfully, but could hear nothing but the music. His body was a vassal for it. The evening was coming in bursts. He couldn't make sense of anything, anymore. Everything entered his mind as images, and they weren't all connected.

One minute he was grinding with Waya, and another he was scratching his nails down Hikaru's back. Neither seemed to mind, though Waya was much more prevalent in the images. He found himself at the bar again, seating with Waya and Hikaru standing behind him. They were all doing shots, and for some reason that was completely okay with Akira.

"Bonzai!" he screamed, downing a double, before grinning, out of breath, at Hikaru. Walking became harder after that, and a lot of the flashes Akira could comprehend involved him stumbling into people and hardly apologizing. He was back on the dance floor, pumping to the beat.

And then he was in the bathroom, and the lights were tinted yellow and stingingly bright; the floors were linoleum and scuffed and Akira was pressed against a wall with Waya on top of him.

And then everything was black.

* * *

Akira did not go to class the next day. He was hungover, body sweating out various toxins it had ingesting unknowingly the night before. The teen was somewhat sour about it – pissed off that Hikaru had let Waya drug him, and that both boys had also taken ecstasy and let him run wild in a club.

Another part of him was angry because it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. Akira could hardly remember the end of the evening, but he knew at some point he and Waya had made out furiously in a bathroom stall. He was happy to wake up in an empty room the next morning, with only a note from Hikaru to keep him company. The bastard was still in class, and yes, he was very much a bastard. Not entirely because he _tricked_ Akira into trusting Waya (who, as the morning went on, he began to resent less), but for other reasons as well.

He glanced at the note again.

'_Akira!_

_I know, awesome awesome partying last night. We outdid ourselves. Just in case you're freaking out, I'll go ahead and admit you could possibly have ingested ecstasy last night. Well, you did. You rubbed against my back for an hour. But you had a lot of fun, and I know it. So I'm not sorry. I'm going to class, though I think you probably need to sleep. _

_By the way, I told you why I'm on probation last night. Hope you remember, sucker! _

_-H'_

Akira sighed. He really wanted to be pissed off, but he couldn't bring himself to be. Yes, he prided himself on being straight-laced… but last night he had had so much fun, and really let go. It got rid of a lot of stress he'd been clinging to, and in a way helped him. Though he felt like shit now, he was still more relaxed than he had been in a long time. So Akira decided he would forgive Hikaru, and indeed Waya too. Because they had been with him the whole time… even if he had made a fool of himself. At least he was safe.

"God," he hissed, rubbing his head. The room was dark, even though it was well into the afternoon. He'd drawn the blinds and taken a shower, but felt like muck was slithering out of his pours. And his head hurt from the alcohol – that he was pissed off about. He'd promised himself there would be no drinking.

He fell asleep on his sweaty pillow, and awoke an unknown period of time later when Hikaru came into the room.

"Hey," Akira croaked, realizing his throat was dry. He was really hot, but the sleep he'd gotten had made him feel better. The sheets around him were soaked with sweat.

Hikaru waved, setting a bag on the couch. "Fuck," he cried, dropping onto the armrest and letting his head fall back. Through the dark of the room Akira could see sweat-stains around his neck. "Why is it so hot in here?"

"I think the air is off," Akira leaned back on his pillow, pushing his hard off of his neck. It was damp, and suddenly he remembered a point from the night before when Waya had run his fingers over his sweaty skin. The boy shivered even in the heat. "I've been asleep, I don't really know." He rolled over, kicking his sheets off. His bed smelled slightly like sweat, and his clothes were sticking to him. The air-conditioner being out was the only explanation, unless he was having some kind of reaction. But Hikaru wasn't… so, yeah, the air.

Speaking of his roommate, Hikaru stood from the couch and pulled his shirt off. Akira stared. He couldn't see sweat on the larger boy's body, but he knew it was there, and it made his already aching body ache more. He felt stupid for having let Waya take advantage of him last night. At the time he had wanted it, but not now. Now he was regretful – Hikaru probably knew all about it.

So much for his meticulous reputation.

Akira sighed audibly, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. It looked gray in the lightless room. "How are you feeling?" he heard Hikaru ask, probably mistaking the sigh for one of pain. It was one of shame, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fine, can't even tell I got drugged."

Oh, that sounded more bitter than he intended. Akira supposed he had the right to be, but the point was, he wasn't really. He cared, but… didn't? As if it just wasn't a big deal to him. He had enjoyed himself, against his will. "I said in the note I wasn't sorry, but if you're upset…" Hikaru started, but Akira didn't want to hear it. He waved his hand, struggling to sit up. His body hurt from the rigorous dancing of the previous night.

"I'm not. I don't care. I'm almost happy about it… even if I was acting retarded."

Hikaru nodded. "I'm glad," he said, and suddenly Akira noticed he was taking his pants off.

"What the-" he started, and then the pants were off and Hikaru was standing in his boxers. "What the hell are you doing?" Akira asked, throat dry.

"Changing into a bathing suit. If you can't go inside to escape the heat, you go swimming."

Well, that was logical. And Hikaru probably didn't think of him sexually at all, so him changing right there wasn't a big deal…

Who was Akira kidding? He rolled over, burying his face into the wet pillow. He could feel his cheeks flush, growing even redder. At first the heat had given him a healthy dose of color, and then Hikaru's shirtlessness, and now the most attractive person he knew was standing only meters away – naked.

Akira's heart was beating a little faster. He wanted to peek. "You're retarded, Touya," Hikaru said, spurning the boy into looking. His roommate was already covered in a pair of swim-trunks; they hung low on his hips (like everything he put on his body) and covered all the way to his knees. The shorts were plain white, with black seams, but they looked good. Well, they didn't. Hikaru did. He looked good in everything. "Want to come with me? If you're feeling better?"

It was strange. Hikaru could go from being an asshole who was manipulative and a fiend, to one of the nicest people Akira had met; like he genuinely cared about his roommate, even if he sometimes did things that seemed callous. And whenever he was around Akira knew things would be interesting – it was a nice change from the blandness his like had been before the taller boy had moved in.

Maybe he wasn't so bad, or maybe he was, but Akira only knew one thing. He definitely wanted to go with him. To spend time with him.

His stomach fluttered as the dark-haired boy stumbled out of bed. Hikaru was there to catch him, and his friend set him up straight before letting him go. "Change – I'm going to go have a smoke. And probably melt in the heat," there was that lopsided grin. Akira wished he had a picture at it, because it always made him feel.. strange, in a good way.

"Can you wait?" He asked, because he wanted to go as well. It occurred to Akira at the time that maybe he was letting go of his moral-fiber, letting such things happening. Going with them, forgiving them. But a part of him didn't care, because he wanted to be a larger part of Hikaru's world. He wanted to experience it firsthand, and maybe become closer to the teen. Why? He didn't want to admit it, but after the night before - when Waya had had him in the bathroom, lathering him in kisses and breathless nothings - he'd been thinking of Hikaru.

And he knew why. Because Waya was so very much like his roommate, and that's why he'd been okay with it. He could make-believe.

Akira changed, and he did so in front of Hikaru. He didn't want to be sky, he didn't care. Hikaru did have the decency to turn slightly red and look away, which made his smaller friend happy. He almost wanted Hikaru to look.

Well, not really. But he was feeling pretty good.

The two made their way outside, large towels thrown over their shoulders and unlit cigarettes between their lips. Akira kept dropping his, and having to catch it with his light-fast reflexes. That being, it hit the ground three times, and he caught it the fourth. "Skill," Hikaru mused, wincing as he pushed the door to their building open and was assaulted with blistering sunlight. Akira squinted and followed his friend; they stood by the side of the building and Hikaru produced a light, flicking it easily and dipping the end of his cigarette into it.

He handed it to Akira, and the boy mimicked his movement. Of course he couldn't start the lighter, and Hikaru ended up holding it for him while he inhaled on the cigarette to light it. Smoke hit his lungs, and the boy immediately coughed. Clouds of smoke puffed from his mouth, and he felt sick momentarily. "Oh, ouch," Hikaru said, dragging expertly off his own cigarette and looking disturbed. "That happens, don't throw up."

Akira simply nodded, holding his stomach and looking at the burning little stick between his fingers. He took another drag, grimaced, and threw the thing away. Okay, maybe smoking wasn't for him, but he'd tried it – and that was the point. Hikaru just laughed. "Wasting my smokes," he chastised the boy, shaking his head.

"I just wanted to try it," Akira scratched be back of his head, feeling sweat gather under his fingers. It was way too hot outside, and he still felt a bit odd from the night before.

They stood together in amicable silence until Hikaru's cigarette was nothing but a butt. He threw in onto the ground and stepped on it, before turning to Akira; "Ready?" he asked, though it was more of a formality. Akira nodded anyways, because he was ready for anything. He felt calm with Hikaru.

The two made their way across the quad, occasionally talking and cracking jokes, but mostly quiet. Something about the heat made squabbling more of an effort than it was worth – they left the quad and came to a more deserted part of the school. It was a large gym, and though it was summer, no one seemed to be around. The closer they got, the more apparent this became. Hikaru glared at the double-doors that led into the gymnasium, before cursing aloud. He ran up, looking at a piece of paper taped to the door.

'_CLOSED FOR RENEVTIONS_'

"It's too hot for this!" Hikaru cried, and if the ground hadn't been searing he probably would have dropped to his knees. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

Akira simply stood back, sweat pouring down his temples. The towel over his shoulder was making him overheat, and he wasn't looking forward to the walk back to their dorm. It wouldn't even be cool inside. He sort of wanted to cry out, too.

The sound of sprinklers starting caught the boys' attention. Both turned to look, and a few moments limped by in the heat before Hikaru looked towards Akira and spoke; "This is happening. We are doing this. It's too hot." He took a step towards the sprinklers, looking resolute. Akira stayed in place, wondering if the heat had finally driven his friend insane.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, watching as Hikaru threw his towel onto the sidewalk and kicked his shoes off.

The taller boy stepped into the grass, sunlight making his tanned skin look almost luminescent. "You can stand there, overheat, and watch – or you can join me," he said simply, wiping sweat from under his fringe. Now that they were in the light Akira could see little rivulets of perspiration dwindling down the teen's back. He watched, felt a distant longing, and threw his towel on top of Hikaru's. Find, if he wanted to be stupid and play in the sprinklers, Akira could play that game. It was hot enough to blame insanity for it if someone should find them.

He kicked his own shoes off, feeling sweat collecting in the line of his swim-shorts. Akira stepped into the grass, watching as Hikaru deftly approached the sprinklers. Both of them knew they were being silly, acting as if they were on the hunt. But still they moved forward, until little drops of water began to hit their shins. Hikaru looked over to Akira, smiled, and broke into a full-run, jumping over a sprinkler and screaming wildly. Akira joined him, feeling the cool sensation of thousands of drops of water hitting him all at once.

"Woo-hoo!" he couldn't help himself; when he was with Hikaru things were fun – things like this happened. The two boys jumped amongst the sprinklers, dancing faux dances and yelling songs together. At one point Hikaru swung Akira around by the forearms, actually managing to lift the boy from the ground and swing him through the air. Akira fell into a fit of giggles, dropping onto his bottom in the green grass and letting his shoulder be wrecked with merriment.

He felt carefree. Just like the night before, but now there was nothing in his system forcing him to feel this way. These feelings were why Akira couldn't be angry about last night – he knew if he was difficult he may no longer have Hikaru in his life, and somewhere in the last month, the idea of that had become unbearable.

Wait - unbearable? Was he really that attached? Akira looked up, watching Hikaru do a cartwheel over a sprinkler. He had his mouth open to drink some of the water, and his eyes were in slits. Drops of water were slithering down his torso, and the fabric of his shorts fell up his legs for a moment.

Yes, it would be unbearable not to see strange things like this every day. Life would be too bland.

Hikaru bounced around the sprinklers for a while more, and Akira simply sat in them and let the water cool his body. He watched his friend, feeling all sorts of strange emotions playing through his chest as he did so. What was this? Hikaru finally stopped with his playing, and crashed down at the smaller boy's side. He leaned back on his arms, and Akira couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled when he did so. What he liked about his roommate was that while Hikaru had a nice body, his muscles were more chorded and lithe, than overly toned and huge. He looked good, like he ran a lot.

_I should stop thinking these things about someone I can never be with_, Akira mused, leaning back on his own smaller arms and looking up towards the sky. It was a striking blue today – probably because no clouds were in the sky.

Which also explained why it was so hot. Akira sneered, turning to look at his roommate. He was surprised to find a set of amber eyes trained on his face.

"Waya said he likes you a lot," Hikaru started conversationally, a soft smile gracing his lips. It was surprising, because Akira had almost expected his friend to leer and loop an arm around his neck, probably asking all about what happened between him and Waya the night before. He had to know. In fact, Akira vaguely remembered Hikaru walking in on it.

But still, he said nothing. Maybe Hikaru could sense Akira wasn't comfortable with it, or even happy about it. "Did he?" the boy asked, stomach dropping fractionally. He did like Waya, but he was a lot more resentful of the older male for what happened the night before. And he was embarrassed at himself… making out the dingy bathroom of a club was not his idea of classy.

Hikaru nodded, beads of water running down his neck and chest. Akira watched, eyes focusing on a drop of water that got stuck on one of his friend's small nipples. "He wants to see you again. I know some stuff went down last night, I can hardly imagine you're happy about it… but it could still happen, right?"

Akira looked away. He knew why Hikaru was being so tactful – he was trying to preserve Waya's chances with him. Something about that didn't sit well with Akira. He didn't want Hikaru to want him to be with someone… else.

And then he realized he wanted Hikaru to want him to be with him.

Akira stiffed, wiping a bit of water from his nose. He did not want to be with Waya, or Tsutsui, or anyone else. He wanted Hikaru. He liked Hikaru. This wasn't just some small-time attraction brought on by a bit of partial nudity and a drunken kiss. He truly, genuinely, wanted to be with Hikaru. The perpetually straight Hikaru. The one person in his life he had no chance with, and it would probably hurt him more in the long run to want.

_Fuck_, was all Akira managed to think about that.

* * *

oOo

_Acta est Fabula_

oOo

* * *

**A/N:**

In case you're wondering what Hikaru told Akira while he was blacking out about the 'secret', here it is:

Akira- "M..Man, what the.. what? Okay, seriously, are you a rapist? Cause I got to know."

Hikaru- "Oh, you want to know my secret. Yeahhhh."

Akira- "Yeahhhh."

Hikaru- "My secret is… I'm born with it. It's not Maybelline."

Akira- "WHAT A TWIST."

_A Review without a home is a Review without love. This story is now adopting Reviews. Think of the children. _


	5. Colds are the Number One Killer in Japan

**Title**: Uneasy Coexistence

**Description**: In which the gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college.

**Pairing(s)**: Touya Akira / Shindou Hikaru, Akira / Waya

**Comment Notes**: IM SORRY. D:

**Author's Notes:** So, uh. Yeah. About that not updating thing. Really sorry. And this chapter is basically a joke, about how in mangas every time someone gets sick it's life-or-death, and they're passing out all the time and seeing things and... yeah. When I have a cold I just lay around in bed watching TV.

* * *

Chapter 5

_Colds are the Number One Killer in Japan_

* * *

Akira sniffed, rubbing at the tender skin under his nose. He was sitting in Go class yet again, Tsutsui to his left and Hikaru sitting in the front with a girl who had a name absolutely no one cared about knowing (except Hikaru,who wanted to know everyone's name and background and freaking horoscope). Fujiwara-sensei danced around the front of the room, periodically slamming his fan against the black-board to illustrate moves in his recreated game. Akira slid down his palm, sighed, and felt the ache behind his forehead intensify.

So he was in love with Hikaru? This new revelation was the only thing Akira seemed to be able to think about. He tried to look at anything else in the room, but without fail his eyes always traveled back to his dumb roommate. At the angle they were sitting Akira could just barely see his friend's profile – the tender curve of his cheek, and sharp cut between his jawline and neck. Blonde flickles of hair mixed in with the brown around his ears, and Akira tried to differentiate between where one color ended and the other began. From where he was sitting, three people to the right and two rows back, he couldn't see much of anything. Akira ripped his eyes away, turning his mouth into his hand and eying Tsutsui. The other boy was observing him lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What?" Akira asked sharply, feeling warmth around his neck and cheeks. _Way to be inconspicuous_.

Tsutsui simply shook his head, glasses flashing as he turned his attention back to the textbook in his palm. Akira scoffed, feeling his neck muscles move of their own accord until once again he was staring at the back of Hikaru's head. He could see now that his friend was whispering to the aforementioned-unnamed-girl, and that sight incited a slight twinge of jealousy within him. He wanted to huff, but more than that, he wanted Hikaru to glance at him. Every little movement the older boy made set Akira on edge. He feared his roommate would sense his voyeurism, and yet.. longed for it. For that rush he felt every time Hikaru's eyes slammed against his in a fury of molten amber versus sweet moss. He wanted to feel important, and when Hikaru was looking... he did.

But Hikaru wasn't looking. Akira glowered, seeing his friend's shoulder undulate with repressed laughter at whatever the girl beside him was whispering. Why had Hikaru chosen to sit so far away? Was it...

The tickle in his nose was hardly warning, and suddenly Akira sneezed with force enough to strip his throat of a layer of tissue. It burned, and the sound resonated through the room. Everyone turned to look, and even Fujiwara stopped his diatribe against rushed decision-making to raise an eyebrow in Akira's direction. "Bless you, Touya-kun," his teacher spoke, and Akira tried to smile at him. He chanced a glance at Hikaru, and found that his roommate was still staring wholeheartedly at the girl beside him. And while that make Akira hate his friend, he almost loved him more for it. For that god damn ability to make a stranger his entire world.

Akira ached at those thoughts, already wishing he was still ignorant. His head was hurting even more now – what had happened to the ease of the morning, when he and Hikaru had played in the water and everything was glorious? Now he just felt dark, morose. His brain was swollen behind his eyes, and now there was a consistent itch forming in his throat that he had to keep clearing away. Eyes heavy-lidded, the boy continued to watch Hikaru with lust hardly hidden on his face, until finally their sensei called the class to an end.

Hikaru left before Akira managed to even muster the strength to stand. He wavered on his feet slightly, ever-so-slightly, but still Tsutsui was there to grip his elbow. "Vertigo, Akira?" the other boy asked, smiling aloofly in his own charming way. Akira stared back, his mouth dry. He wondered what it would be like if he had chosen to love Tsutsui instead. If it would feel the same – except so much easier, because at least he'd have a chance...

"You can't keep being so informal, Tsutsui-san," Akira commented, voice rasping at the end of his sentence. Tsutsui blinked at that. "I'm fine, though. Feeling a bit light-headed," he continued, easing his elbow out of his friend's grip.

"Are you sick?" Tsutsui asked, lumbering to pull his bag over his shoulder and adjusting the strap. "I hear summer colds are common among college students. You know, exchanging fluids and lack of proper nutrition, et cetera..." Of course Tsutsui could easily say things that made Akira blush, and the younger of the two did just that. The dark-haired boy lofted a brow, "And just which part of that sentence turned you pink, Akira? Who have you been exchanging fluids with?"

Akira physically lurched back in aghast. "No one!" he shouted, and a few stragglers in the room glanced at him on their way out. The boy immediately busied himself with his backpack and books, finding their delicate balance in his arms and ignoring the _thump_ of blood in his ears. He was thinking about last night again, now. Of Waya's tongue in his mouth. It made him sick, and embarrassed, and angry. Strangely enough, Tsutsui chose to only stare instead of commenting, though Akira could see multitudes of unspoken words boiling in his eyes. "I... did something, last night," Akira continued, words spilling from his mouth like vomit. He wanted so badly for someone else to take the load off of his mind, even when the very idea of talking made him feel a turn in his body. "It's not good."

Tsutsui smiled again, this one reaching into his eyes – which were shimmering in delight and mischievousness. "I'll walk you to the dorm, then."

* * *

"...and then Waya was kissing me and the bathroom was so dirty and disgusting, and his knee was between my legs and he was pushing me up the stall – it was green, I think, except for the stains – and he kept pushing his tongue further and further down my throat and then... Well then I don't remember much. I vomited on the sidewalk and someone was holding me up, and I vaguely remember the lights of the two A.M. Train, but nothing more than that."

Tsutsui had stopped walking. They stood in the middle of the quad's main walkway, Akira breathing rapidly from the retelling of his story; Tsutsui simply staring with wide eyes across from him. "He _drugged_ you?" the teen hissed, looking the way Akira realized he should probably feel. Tsutsui's words made him guilty though, and he felt righteous anger coming off the teen in waves.

Akira scratched at the back of his head – one of the many mannerisms he had picked up from his damn roommate, "Yeah, I guess..."

"You guess?" The loudness of Tsutsui's voice surprised him – made him wince. "That's not a question which 'I guess' is a valid answer to. It's yes or no. And if the answer is yes, you should probably go to the fucking hospital – and then the police! That's illegal!" Akira swallowed a lump in his throat, eyes round like dishes. His body was hurting more now, brain processing Tsutsui's words at the rate of a snail. Suddenly there were arms around his shoulders, and his face was flat against his friend's chest. He hung there awkwardly, limply. "That was not your fault, Akira. I don't know why you're blaming yourself, or acting like it isn't a big deal. It is..." Akira felt the vibrations of those words in Tsutsui's chest, and his eyes welled up without warning. _What is this?_ he wanted to ask, but instead his fisted the older boy's shirt and focused on not crying – in anger or pain or anything.

"But I..." he started, mouth slick with saliva. He didn't want to continue. He was embarrassed. Finally, Akira pulled Tsutsui's ear to his lips, and whispered against it, "I think I'm in love with Hikaru." He felt like a school-girl, hundreds of emotions belting him all at once. The arms around his shoulders tightened, and Tsutsui didn't speak for a moment.

"Maybe you shouldn't be," he said finally, pulling away and holding Akira out at a distance, staring hard into his face. "It's been obvious from the start that you would have feelings for him, and god knows it took you long enough to see it. But..." Akira's nostrils flared; he watched as Tsutsui sucked his lower lip into his mouth and worried it. "He doesn't seem so great to me, anymore. What you're feeling... isn't it what American's call Stockholm Syndrome? Or something like that? Loving someone who is hurting you. It's masochistic. You don't need that, Akira..."

The smaller of the two pointedly removed himself from Tsutsui's arms. He didn't know what to think at all. He was coming to terms with things, and now Tsutsui had to complicate them again? "Why can't it be simple..?" he wondered aloud, realizing rivulets of water were trailing down his cheeks. He violently rubbed them away, shamed. "I want Hikaru in my life. I don't care if he hurts me. I already know he's going to... why does it matter..." It didn't. It couldn't. He could hurt him now or do it later – either way it would happen. Because at some point Akira would truly realize Hikaru wasn't going to love him back, and that pain would be divine compared to the little betrayals and blatant disregards he had to endure now. "...At least I can pretend..." he started, until suddenly his voice cracked and for the second time Tsutsui pulled him flush against his chest. Akira wanted to sob all-out, but his pride only let soft tears stream from his eyes. "I can't hate him, Tsutsui... I can't..." Not when loving him felt so great.

He continued to murmur for a while after that, enjoying the soothing circles the taller boy rubbed into his spine. People all around eyed them, but no one came close or interfered. Akira was content to stand there all night, or at least until his thoughts had some semblance of order. He just couldn't think anything coherent – nothing beyond 'I want to hate him,' and the ever-present, 'I can't'. It would be so easy to continue pretending that Hikaru had no control over the situation – which, well, _he_ wasn't the one who had the drugs – but that wasn't true... Being a bystander was still a crime.

"What do I do...?" Akira finally asked, defeated, leaning away from Tsutsui and realizing he'd left a tear-stains on the boy's shirt. He dabbed at them, sheepish.

Tsutsui's face hardened. "Give up on him, obviously. Otherwise the only thing you'll get is hurt, and that isn't healthy. Just... banish both those boys from your life. You know soon enough new people will come around. _You don't need him._" Akira leaned away, out of Tsutsui's arms, and stumbled slightly off of the walkway. His head was pounding, his nose was clogged. He coughed weakly, shaking his head furiously when Tsutsui tried to steady him.

"I... need to go..." he muttered, eyes bleary. He took uneven steps in the direction of his dorm, and noted with mild annoyance that Tsutsui had grabbed the collar of his shirt a few moments later. He turned, and immediately all the blood drained away from his head.

Waya stood there, smiling, evidently having just let go of his shirt.

He looked damn smug, one hand in his pocket and the other waving happily in the air. Tsutsui didn't seem to realize who he was, and instead stood off to the side and looked bothered by the new participant in their conversation. "You look better," Waya commented, angling his head to the side with his smile. God, he looked so much like Hikaru at that moment. His shoulders had the same wide set; his teeth were the same perfect white, and his pants hung just as carelessly.

"I look better now..." Akira echoed, blinking. He felt awful, like he was going to die any second. And here Waya was, reminding him of just how weak and pathetic he was. "I look better now?" he repeated, inflection changing to inquisitive. And then, before he even registered the action, Akira cocked his arm back and balled his fist. Like a whip, he unleashed all of his anger into a single, precise punch that connected solidly with Waya's chin and sent the taller teen stumbling backwards several steps. Akira huffed, arms rigid at his side. "I hate you" he whispered, voice cracking and ragged. He imagined Waya was Hikaru, and the expression of shock he wore was fitting. His mind was so foggy now, he could actually see his roommate's face superimposed onto this stranger's. "Never speak to me again Hikaru," he cried, feeling a fool. Somewhere, distantly, he understood Waya was a different person, but it didn't matter. He could pretend. He was good at pretending.

The teen stalked away, using what was left of his adrenalin to walk a straight-line out of sight. He left two very shocked boys in his wake, where he could hear a voice similar to Hikaru's (but lower, slightly) calling things he didn't feel like hearing. He turned a corner, and behind the cover of trees his knees buckled. Akira stumbled and hit the ground, appendages useless beneath him. He slid against the trunk of a tree near him, and stared out through half-lidded eyes at the bustling after-six crowd in the quad. It was still warm out, and the sun was just beginning to sink on the horizon. No one seemed to be paying attention; to them, he probably seemed to be just another student taking a cat-nap in the early evening. He felt like vomiting. Through the haze someone appeared, and Akira smiled.

Hikaru. Beautiful Hikaru. Wonderful Hikaru. The walking god whispered something that sounded like an apology, and all Akira could do was smile to himself and cling to the solid neck of his roommate as he was pulled off the ground easily and positioned bridal style, snugly, two lithe arms folding him close to a broad chest. His legs hung limply, and after that Akira simply burrowed his face into the skin presented to him, and breathed. Apologies continued to rain down around him, and he drifted off into the dark recesses of fevered slumber.

* * *

Things hadn't changed much in the hour that passed after that. Akira had been taken to his dorm by Waya, whom he continued to address as 'Hikaru' no matter how many times the teen corrected him. Waya had been dutiful, placing a cool rag on the smaller boy's head and generally acting as a caretaker, but Akira didn't seem capable of response. He simply stared out from behind bleary eyes, mind too fevered to work any longer. Waya watched him, sitting at the edge of the bed and staring in concern at the way Akira refused to close his eyes and rest.

"You need to sleep, Touya-kun," he murmured, slipping his hand into the other teen's.

Akira didn't turn his head, but he smiled. "But I want to be awake when you are here, Hikaru," he said, voice periodically going out. Obviously the sick boy was exhausted to the point of delirium, so Waya simply sighed, stroking his hair. He felt oddly tender towards Akira – probably a result of the guilt and the god damn punch to the face (which had left quite the mark). He leaned forward, tugging Akira's chin until the boy looked at him.

"I am not Hikaru, I'm Waya. I keep telling you."

Akira shook his head. He whispered something about hate, but Waya didn't catch it and he didn't think he wanted to. He was starting to get the picture here, with the way Akira kept crying his roommate's name and the way he looked so lost and longing. It was... cute.

Almost.

Waya leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing. "To think I was kissing you last night," he voiced, wetting his lips when Akira cocked his head to the side and looked like a child.

"You never kiss me," he started, pin-straight fringe casting shadows over his eyes. "...except, that time."

Smiling, Waya perked a brow. The impenetrably straight Hikaru had kissed Akira before? He was jealous and intrigued all at the same time, and it showed in his grin. "I kissed you?" he asked, eyes low, deciding that playing Akira's feverish game would be fun.

"That's right," Akira said, sounding wistful. "You forgot. You were drunk. 'Said I looked like a girl, mauled me, and then stopped before it even got good."

Waya gasped in faux shock. "How rude of me!" he cried, pulling Akira's limp hand into his chest. And then he was laughing, leaning close to the smaller boy, who had joined in the merriment even though he was too sick to understand it at all. Waya stopped suddenly, glaring up as his eyes met Akira's. The other teen paused as well, gulping over the obvious physical effect of having 'Hikaru' so close. Akira, even through his sweaty skin and dim eyes, still looked edible. Waya grinned. It would be wrong, he knew it, but he was an opportunist and this was an opportunity. And why shouldn't he, when Akira in his right mind planned to never speak to him again, anyways...

"Say," he started, placing one large hand at the base of the boy's skull, "I should make that up to you."

Akira stopped blabbering, which he had been doing pretty consistently ever since Waya – or Hikaru – had dumped him into his bed and placed a now lukewarm rag on his head. He blinked once, and then twice, and then finally registered what had just been said to him. A chance? So soon? Worms wiggled in his stomach, making the boy giddy. He did his best to nod, which mostly came across as drunken fluttering, but Waya understood the movement and honed in for the kill. Akira sighed contentedly, allowing the hand on his neck to force him into 'Hikaru's' lap...

Waya grinned, dipping Akira easily in his arms. The boy weighed nothing; his skin was smooth and paper-white, and his hair hung limply around his face. He was too cute – with his sweat-slick skin and vulnerable expression. Waya shifted him upright more, before pressing his face happily into the exposed skin at Akira's neck. The boy mewled, straining to allow better access; Waya lazily let his tongue taste every inch, pressing butterfly kisses here and there, pausing for the occasional laborious attack at the junction between Akira's neck and clavicle. The larger of the two was completely in control, and he liked it. Hunger twisted low in his gut, and he once again pushed Akira into a more accessible position – one where the teen sat upright, legs daft on either side of Waya's waist, arms slung heavily over his shoulders.

Exploring hands wound under Akira's shirt, and the boy blinked blearily at them. His eyes slid closed, and Waya was still running his tongue over his neck. He made it to the teen's chin, before leaning back and watching intently as his fingers found Akira's nipples and he played with them. There was little recognition on the boy's face, and Waya growled. He pulled roughly at Akira's neck, until they were mouth-to-mouth with only inches between.

"I love you, Hikaru," the younger of the two sighed, sounding content and heartbreaking at the same time. Waya paused, trying to break through the layer of air between them. He stopped, brows drawing together while the skin on his forehead wrinkled.

He couldn't do it. "You don't see me at all, do you?" he asked, leaning away. Akira had the decency to be confused, and hurt, because as far as he knew he was being rejected yet again.

"I only see you..."

Waya unceremoniously dumped the boy back into his bed, forcefully shaking away the anxiousness in his body. "You are such a brat..." he sighed, finding the rag he'd cooled before on the floor and grabbing it. "Just know you got lucky," he finished, wandering to the adjacent bathroom and running cold water over the rag again.

Akira sat there, confused, until finally his 'Hikaru' returned. His eyes welled up. The pain behind his forehead had returned ten-fold, and he was so confused...

The cool rag brought relief, and Akira allowed Waya to coax him back against his pile of pillows. He laid there, staring, pupils dilated and filled with bewilderment. "Hikaru..." he murmured, but Waya wouldn't listen anymore. He stood, stalked over to the mirror, and huffed.

"Stop calling me that, dammit."

The door to the dorm swung open, and the real Hikaru came through it. He stopped, blinked, and smirked, observing the room. "Hey guys, am I..." and then he looked closer. Akira looked alarmed, eyes wide as plates and a rag over his head. Waya was fidgeting, as if having been caught in the 'act'. "...interrupting..?"

Silence ensued, until suddenly Akira pipped up. "Why are there two Hikaru's now?" he pulled the rag from his head and rubbed his eyes, sniffling over the mucus in his throat. "Having one was bad enough," he continued, muttering about how the gods must hate him, to put him through such hell. Hikaru, the real one, slowly closed the door.

"Buddy," he started, suddenly moving to the edge of the bed, "what do you mean, two Hikarus?"

Akira shrugged, pointing between Waya and Hikaru. "He is you and you are him and I am just confused..." He paused, before smiling deliriously. "You should probably kiss me again. One of you. To see if I'm dreaming. Like a prince... or something."

Waya choked on his own spit, sputtering and causing Hikaru's attention to turn towards him. He had been trying to ebb towards the door, but the moment amber eyes caught him his arms went up and he stood still, like a fugitive. "I didn't do _anything_," he said immediately, swallowing. Hikaru looked angry, and suddenly he was standing.

"What'd you fucking give him? You... fuck. You cannot _do_ that, you little shit."

Waya was already at the door though. "I swear," he said, dead serious. "And I didn't kiss him, either. Just... well, I did a little..."

Hikaru pointed to the door, arm quivering from the force. "I don't care. Just... go away."

The door was already open, and Waya paused in the doorway. "He's sick..." he muttered, before disappearing into the hallway and closing the door with a _click_. Hikaru exhaled roughly, before glaring over at his roommate.

Akira was doubled over, trying desperately to wiggle out of bed. He succeeded, and began a sort of shuffle along the lining, eyes trained to Hikaru. "You're a demon," he said finally. "You're evil Hikaru. I hate you."

"What?" was all the older boy managed, before Akira reached the end of his bed and took and experimental step on his own. He wavered, before his knees yet again buckled and he tipped over. Hikaru lunged, arms outstretched, and his fingers brushed the hem of Akira's shirt, but he missed. The boy slid against the linoleum rather peacefully, while Hikaru hit the floor with a thud and caused himself more damage than Akira suffered. He groaned, shuffling to his knees and immediately sweeping his young roommate up into his arms.

Akira continued to grumble. "I hate you I hate you I hate you," over and over, voice rasping and sad. Hikaru simply held him, looking lost. He noticed the rag nearby and lunged for it, barely gripping it from under the bed. It was still cool to the touch, and he gingerly pressed it into his roommate's flushed forehead. Akira quieted, eyes sliding closed. He went limp, lips parting and head lulling backwards, exposing his kiss-bitten creamy neck. Hikaru stared angrily, eyes raking over the ravaged flesh.

"Hikaru..." Akira called, peeking from under his eyelashes. "I really do want to hate you."

With that he fell unconscious, and Hikaru was left holding the boy.

* * *

_acta est fabula_

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* * *

_**a/n:**

I'll try to update again. I'll try even harder if you review. hahahahaah loev**  
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